Heart of a Warrior
by Ruthie of the Wildcats
Summary: WarriorsLoZ X-over. When a powerful, dark warrior threatens the four Clans of Hyrule, StarClan chooses a rather unlikely cat to save them. Can Link learn to fight like a true warrior cat, or will he let the Hylian cats down in their hour of need?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Warriors or the Legend of Zelda. A majority of the characters in this story belong to me, but I think you can guess which ones don't.  
****Setting:**** Two months after the end of **_**Ocarina of Time**_**.**

The skies were full of stars, stars so close they appeared to be tangled in amongst the rustling leaves of the trees. Down below, the ground was scraped into a smooth, valley-like place, covered from end to end with soft, lush grass that whispered in the night wind. In the center of the clearing stood four massive oak trees, and at their feet rested a giant, jagged boulder. It was atop this stone that the blue-gray she-cat crouched, her icy eyes narrowed in thought. The gentle, restless breezes tugged at her pelt playfully, as if coaxing her to run with them. The cat's ears pressed flat to the sides of her head in irritation, and after a moment, she stood and leapt down from the rock.

"Spottedleaf, I wish to speak to you," she meowed, looking around the clearing expectantly. Within heartbeats, a tortoiseshell she-cat appeared from between the trees at the edge of the clearing, a rabbit clamped in her jaws. With light, graceful steps that left the icy sparkle of stardust on the grass, she padded over to the other queen.

"What is it, Bluestar?" she asked, setting down her catch. Bluestar, the gray cat, flicked her tail to beckon the other, who abandoned her rabbit to follow. The two she-cats skimmed the grass fluidly, making their way towards a pool of silver water at the edge of the grove. It was there that Bluestar sat, motioning with her tail for Spottedleaf to do the same.

"I see visions in the pool like nothing before," Bluestar replied in a low murmur. "A dark warrior, stronger than any we've ever seen, Clans of cats crying out for help...all in a land I've never seen in my life."

Spottedleaf frowned thoughtfully, giving one white forepaw a lick before drawing it over her ears. "Could it be perhaps the Tribe calling to us?" she asked. "After all, one of our number walks in their skies as well."

Bluestar shook her head. "These are Clan cats," she insisted. Spottedleaf twitched her ears questioningly. "I'm not sure how I know, but I _do._"

"StarClan see farther than you give them credit for, Bluestar," a new voice pointed out.

Bluestar and Spottedleaf turned to face the speaker, only to end up bristling in fear and disbelief. The one who had spoken was a Twoleg! Her furless skin was milky-pale and seemed to glow faintly with an inner, golden light; the pelt she wore was long and flowing, beginning under her forelegs and continuing to pool at her hindpaws. The fur on her head was long and sleek, blue as the pelt she wore. And—strangely enough—her ears were somewhat more catlike than other Twolegs': They sloped to steep points away from the sides of her head. The Twoleg settled herself down across the pool from the two cats, her golden gaze calm.

"Your cats span across many lands," she continued, sketching a figure on the silver surface of the waters. "Even to Hyrule."

The tense she-cats exchanged a glance before starting to relax as they realized this strange Twoleg meant them no harm. Bluestar turned her head to study the Twoleg, while Spottedleaf crouched down to gaze intently into the pool. The argent glow turned her dark fur purest shining silver.

"Who are you?" Bluestar asked suspiciously. "And how can you walk in StarClan's skies?"

"My name is Nayru," the woman replied gently. "I am, to my people, the Goddess of Wisdom—somewhat like their StarClan. They ask my sisters and me **(1)** for protection, blessings, gifts..." She shook her head. "But none of this is relevant, save to answer your second question. I am able to walk your skies because I am, like you, above the mortal world." Her eyes glowed warmly. "I have been searching for this place long and hard, Bluestar."

"Why?" the silver-muzzled queen queried. "Do you know more of the cats I have seen of late?"

"I do," Nayru replied. "I know the danger that Hyrule's Clans face, and I have come to ask for your help in saving them." She placed her hand on the still water, whose silver glow changed briefly to a sunny yellow. "Because they are under your protection, my sisters and I can do nothing to save these cats—but because they are part of Hyrule, we _must_ protect them. Only by StarClan's permission may we act."

"You sound as though you have the solution," Bluestar meowed. "Tell me."

"I have chosen a Hero, full of courage and pure of heart; I wish for him to save the Clans." Nayru lifted her hand from the waters and indicated for Bluestar to look. The blue-gray cat obliged, only to leap back in disgust, bristling.

"Th-that's a Twoleg!" she hissed. Indeed, the pool showed the image of a young Twoleg male, with head-fur the color of a lion's mane and deep blue eyes. Spottedleaf drew back from the waters, her amber eyes wide. "Nayru, are you saying that only one of _them_ can save Hyrule's Clans?"

"He is a Hero in his world, Bluestar, and he will be a Hero in yours—if you only let him," the Goddess answered.

"But he isn't much more than a kit!" the former leader of ThunderClan protested, twitching her whiskers in disbelief.

"He is stronger than he appears," Nayru assured her. "It would be possible to age him; however, he has been down that path quite recently, and is not keen on repeating the experience. Also, the Timestream has yet to fully recover from the event—doing so again may very well unravel Time in Hyrule altogether."

Bluestar's eyes narrowed in distrust, but Spottedleaf turned to her with a kind of bright conviction in her pale gaze. "Bluestar, these are Clan cats," she mewed reasonably. "How will we honestly be able to say that StarClan care for all if we ignore them in their time of need? Even if they live and hunt far from our old territory, they still have faith in us to protect them." She turned to the Goddess briefly, then back to her former Clanmate. "I believe Nayru, and I think we should do as she says."

Bluestar kneaded the soft ground at her paws thoughtfully, bowing her head in silence. The warm air carried with it the hint of tension, cold and untrusting. Finally, the old gray cat lifted her head. "I have decided," she meowed firmly. "I shall allow this Hero of yours entrance to the world of the Clans. However, some changes must be made."

"Explain," was all Nayru said.

Bluestar swept her paw over the water, and the image of the boy shivered. It changed, becoming that of a young golden tabby with the same haunting blue gaze. His ears were unlike that of a normal cat, being longer and more steeply pointed. A strange yellow patch of fur appeared just above his left forepaw, but it was barely noticeable. As Bluestar had said, he wasn't much more than a kit—his limbs were long and gangly, ending in chubby paws—but there was a kind of supple strength lurking behind his awkward physique. Nayru studied the image, nodding to herself.

"Very well," she told Bluestar. "He shall enter your world as a cat."

The gray queen nodded. "I have never seen these cats outside of visions in the pool, but if they follow StarClan, then we are obligated to protect them. You have my permission, and the permission of StarClan, to send this Hero into the world of cats." Nayru nodded, then hesitated.

"I require one last thing," she began. "I will see to it that the boy assumes a cat's body, and I will carry him to meet his new Clan myself...but I am unable to speak to the Clan's leader. She believes in StarClan, not the Goddesses of Hyrule."

Spottedleaf stepped forward. "I will go," she meowed. Turning to Bluestar, she gave a questioning twitch of her ears.

Bluestar nodded, and the tortoiseshell she-cat padded after Nayru. As the two of them neared the edge of the clearing, she lifted her tail in farewell. "Take care," she murmured.

**

* * *

**

"Incredible!" Spottedleaf mewed, her amber eyes wide in amazement. "Four Clans divided up this much territory between them? There must be room for at least twice that number! Where am I headed?"

The Goddess stretched out her golden arm and pointed to a towering mountain whose peak was wreathed in smoke. "I have chosen MountainClan," she replied. "They are in the most danger of the dark warrior you saw. Their medicine cat is a brown, dappled female who goes by the name of Sagewhisker."

"Sagewhisker," Spottedleaf repeated. She nodded. "Yes...Sagewhisker of MountainClan. What shall I tell her?"

"I will bring the promised cat to the foot of the mountain, and hide him from roving predators," was the reply. "His fur will smell like the forest; describe him as you saw him in the pool, if you like." Spottedleaf nodded. "I suppose it is also worth pointing out that he will not be a warrior—he is young, but with great promise."

"Yes, he appeared to be the age and size of an apprentice," the former medicine cat mused. She turned to look up at Nayru...only to find herself looking down again. The Goddess had become a wiry, blue she-cat with long fur and yellow eyes. Her ears were the same as the Twoleg-turned-cat's would be, and ended in white tufts.

"I thought it would be wise to deliver the message to him in this form," Nayru explained calmly. "After all, he's grown up believing in three Goddesses...I would rather him not be confused by seeing one of those Three telling him that a group of starry cats are guarding him." Spottedleaf nodded in agreement and started towards the mountain. Nayru hesitated, then waved a paw at the sky. A cluster of stars rearranged themselves at her bidding to form a thick band of silver. "Hopefully you will be able to find your way home using this," she murmured, then plunged like a comet towards the forest.

**

* * *

**

Link found it somewhat strange that he was dreaming about the land just outside Zora's Domain, but frankly, he'd take any dream over his nightmares of Hyrule Castle. The boy was content to sit atop one of the four large stones on the grassy plateau and gaze around at the scenery. It was certainly one of the more peaceful dreams he'd had. The air was warm, with just a hint of the smell of summer to it, and was kept pleasantly cool by the restless breezes. Drawing his knees to his chest, the youth rocked back and forth on his perch. "I could get used to dreaming in a place like this," he whispered wonderingly.

"You may very well dream of here again," a soft voice informed him. Link dropped his knees and looked wildly around. Only when he looked down did he see the source of the voice: a lanky, bluish cat. "Greetings, Hero," the cat meowed formally. "I've come to deliver a message to you from StarClan."

"Who are they?" the boy asked curiously, dropping down from the boulder to kneel in front of the cat. "Is this just a dream, or is it something more?"

"Something more," the cat informed him. "Groups of wildcats live across Hyrule—I'm sure you have seen glimpses of them?"

"I know there's a bunch of them that live in the Lost Woods," he murmured. "And I think another lives somewhere on Death Mountain—Darunia was telling me about them once." The narrow-eared queen nodded. "Does this 'StarClan' thing you speak of have anything to do with those cats?"

"Very much so," the she-cat purred. "They act as Gods and Goddesses to the cats of Hyrule—they call themselves 'warrior ancestors.' The groups of cats are organized into Clans, and right now those Clans are in grave danger." Link frowned thoughtfully. "A dark warrior is threatening them, and StarClan has chosen you to save the Clans."

The boy leaned back on his heels, considering this while the cat waited patiently. "If I were to go," he began slowly. The cat tilted her head to the side. "No, no, never mind. Of course I would be able to speak cat. You would help me with that, wouldn't you?"

"Certainly," was the answer. "It is rather hard to save someone if you are unable to communicate with them, is it not?" Link nodded. "StarClan will provide for your needs. They have chosen MountainClan, the Clan living on Death Mountain, for you to live with, for they are in the most need of your help." She paused. "That is, _if_ you decide to help."

"I will." Link smiled. "After all, if they're a part of Hyrule, it's my duty as Hero of Time to protect them, isn't it? Even if they're just cats, they still have a role in life...even if that role is nothing more than keeping mice under control."

The cat's yellow eyes grew kind. "I knew you would not refuse," she mewed. "Thank you, Hero. All of StarClan is grateful to you."

She flicked her tail for him to crouch lower, then laid a paw on his head. She began to murmur ancient, forgotten words in a low voice. The sharp, metallic scent of winter wind filled the air, and was accompanied by the sounds of ice breaking. Link felt a strange desire build up inside of him: He wanted to run and leap endlessly, prowling from shadow to shadow in search of something small and warm. The sound and smell of the cold grew stronger, until they began to fill his entire being and he felt as though he were made of ice—shattering and reforming at every instant. It wasn't painful, so much as it was...different.

The boy felt as though he were getting smaller and smaller, changing everything about himself, yet remaining the same. Still the blue cat droned on, her voice now rising and falling with his body's every cracking and molding. It was hypnotic, harmonious almost, and soon Link found his mind slowly sliding out from under him. The last thing he was aware of was the knowledge that somehow, inexplicably, the cat now towered over him.

**

* * *

**

"What?"

"You heard me. A Twoleg."

"You're mad!"

"Sagewhisker, don't you want your Clan to be safe?"

Sagewhisker, the MountainClan medicine cat, shook her head firmly. "No. This can't be right. You're sending MountainClan a Twoleg to save us?"

Spottedleaf shrugged. "Why not?"

"That's mousebrained!"

"Not as mousebrained as it seems at first," Spottedleaf assured her. "The Twolegs'...their warrior ancestors"—the tortoiseshell hoped that was the right term to use—"have seen the Twoleg I'm sending you fight. He has faced the danger threatening your Clan and has emerged victorious."

"How will I know him?" Sagewhisker asked. "How can I be sure he isn't just some Twoleg come to give our Clan trouble?"

"He will be given a cat's body," Spottedleaf explained patiently. "He will appear to be the age of an apprentice—a small golden tabby with eyes the color of deep water." The dappled brown queen nodded in understanding. "He will be hidden somewhere at the foot of the mountain; search for the scent of the forest." Sagewhisker nodded again.

"Very well," she meowed. "Is that all?" Spottedleaf nodded. "Well, now that you've told me what I need to know, I ask you to leave." A glint of amusement entered Sagewhisker's eyes. "Before you arrived, I was having this wonderful dream about hunting the biggest rabbit you've ever seen."

Spottedleaf nodded and left her dream, feeling as though she had accomplished something great. Upon stepping out of the cave that served as Sagewhisker's den, the tortoiseshell looked up to the sky. Her jaws parted in a gasp of awe. Silverpelt! Visible here, in this far-off land? The mere sight of it filled her with unrelenting joy, and she bounded into the stars in a streak of bright silver light.

Once her paws had passed through the cloud of shining dust, though, the stars scattered to their original places, cutting StarClan off from Hyrule once again.

**(1) I know it sounds horribly colloquial, but correct grammar takes precedence over formality.**


	2. Allegiances

Allegiances

**MountainClan  
****Leader** Lavastar—massive dark ginger queen with green eyes and big paws  
**Apprentice, Link**

**Deputy**Wolfosclaw—gray and brown tomcat with green eyes  
**Apprentice, Goronpaw**

**Medicine Cat** Sagewhisker—dappled brown she-cat  
**Apprentice,** **Brushpaw—small brown tabby tom**

**Warriors** Hillfire—ginger tomcat with amber eyes

Rockpelt—small gray tom  
**Apprentice, Ghostpaw**

Raggedstripe—dark brown tabby she-cat

Suncloud—long-furred pale ginger tom with stripes of darker fur on his legs and a white chest and belly

Moonflower—wiry white queen

Sandspots—pale brown tom

Swoopingclaw—limber, pale tabby tom  
**Apprentice, Brownpaw**

Swiftwind—black she-cat with white paws and gray eyes

Dodongofang—dark brown tabby tom with scarred ears  
**Apprentice, Fairypaw**

Liontail—golden she-cat with green eyes

Craterfire—tortoiseshell tom with blazing green eyes  
**Apprentice, Blazingpaw**

Firetail—small black tom with a ginger-splotched tail

**Apprentices** Brownpaw—big, dark brown, mottled queen

Goronpaw—light brown tom with dark brown paws and spots on his back

Fairypaw—white she-cat with a bluish tint to her fur and amber eyes

Ghostpaw—pale gray tom with unusually small paws

Blazingpaw—golden tabby she-cat with long fur

Link—lean golden tabby he-cat with dark blue eyes and unusually pointed ears

**Queens** Magmaheart—dark ginger tabby with stripes of paler fur  
**Kits, Firekit and Smokekit**

Stormcloud—gray and black-spotted queen with yellow eyes  
**Kits, Skullkit, Volcanokit, and Mirrorkit**

**Elders** Dragonheart—golden tom with a stripes of ginger fur; the oldest cat in MountainClan

Tornear—sandy she-cat with one ear missing

Cloudedeyes—blind, gray and black tabby queen

**ForestClan  
****Leader** Dekustar—white she-cat with bright green eyes

**Deputy** Stalfospelt—dusty-brown tomcat with stripes of black fur

**FieldClan  
****Leader** Tawnystar—muscular brown tomcat

**Deputy** Crowshadow—gray tom with a big splash of black on his shoulders and back

**Warriors** Grasswhisker—wiry brown tom

**FallsClan  
****Leader** Splashstar—bluish she-cat with gray splotches

**Deputy** Zorafin—pale gray she-cat

**Warriors** Tallreed—long-legged brown queen

**Cats Outside Clans  
**Rusty—ginger-brown tom who lives at Redstones

Leaf—white she-cat with splotches of ginger and black on her back who lives in the Twolegplace at the bottom of the mountain

Trickster—lean ginger tabby tom who lives at the horseplace in FieldClan's territory

Russie—pretty brown tabby queen who lives at the horseplace on FieldClan's territory; mate of Trickster

Ganondorf—massive black tomcat with fiery yellow eyes

Blackcloud—black she-cat, formerly of MountainClan


	3. Chapter 1

"Craterfire, I think I found something!"

"What is it, Blazingpaw?"

"I think there's a cat in this crevice, but I'm not sure. All around it smells kinda like ForestClan—do you think they've tried to start an invasion?"

"What an imagination you have! The very idea, ForestClan invading our territory..."

Link felt something jab him hard in the ribs and groaned as he rolled away from it. His whole body was stiff and sore, and it almost felt as though lots of little rocks were poking his underside. He kicked feebly, trying to free himself from the clinging cobwebs of his dreams, only to feel his feet strike something hard and unmoving. Slowly, he opened his eyes to find himself huddled in a small cave in the rock. Scraps of light filtered in, shadowed by something at the crevice's entrance. The boy turned, only to find that much to his amazement, there was a young cat—a kitten, really—watching him.

"Craterfire, it _is_ a cat!" it yowled happily. "And he's awake!"

Link rolled onto his belly. "What are you talking about?" he asked. "I'm not a cat—I just know how to speak cat, apparently. I'm a Hylian."

The pretty she-cat, a golden tabby, tilted her head to the side. "What's a Hy-lee-un?" she mewed in confusion. "Isn't that what some cats call Twolegs? You actually think you're one of them?" She let out an amused _mrrow_. "You're a funny one!" Turning back over her shoulder, she informed that second cat, "I think he's mad."

"I'm not mad!" Link protested, leaping to his feet. Curiously, his head brushed the roof of the cave...just like the tabby's would have if she were in the crevice. Only then did he look down at himself. A screech of shock escaped him. "I _AM _A CAT!"he yowled, and the sound of his voice echoing through the tiny cave sent the second cat, presumably Craterfire, running. He shouldered the kitten aside and put his face close to the entrance of Link's cave.

"Well, yes," he meowed. "I don't see why this comes as such a shock to you. Weren't you born a cat?"

Link hesitated, looking deep into the tortoiseshell tom's green eyes. He sat down, curling his tail over his paws as he thought. Finally, he mewed, "I...no, I wasn't. I remember having a dream in which this beautiful blue cat told me that I was being called by..." He frowned thoughtfully. "Something like...MoonClan, maybe?"

"StarClan?" Craterfire offered. Link nodded rapidly.

"Yes, that's it!" He shook his head. "I was a Hylian yesterday, and now somehow I'm a cat."

"Most rogues don't know of StarClan. If you had a dream from them, then perhaps it's best we take you back to our camp," the lean tom murmured; there was a glimmer of secrets in his emerald gaze. He stepped back. "Come out, and we'll escort you there." He sighed patiently as Link hesitated. "If you got yourself in there, young warrior,"—_But I _didn't_ get myself in here!_ thought Link despairingly—"you can get yourself back out again. Use your whiskers to judge the gap—if your whiskers can fit, so can the rest of you."

Link approached the mouth of the cave slowly, trying to find the way to control his whiskers. Once he did, he thrust them forward, twitching in surprise as he felt them brush the edges of the entrance. It felt like it would be a tight squeeze, but Craterfire's words rang through his head. He had heard that a cat could fit through any hole the size of its head—something about how they didn't have certain bones, so their shoulders could pull together closer than other animals'. The young cat took a deep breath to calm himself, then put his forepaws through the gap.

"Yes, that's the way," Craterfire meowed encouragingly. "Now the rest of you. Your shoulders will be the hardest part, but once they're through the rest of you will follow without any trouble whatsoever."

Link thrust his head through next, marveling at how perfectly it fit. He doubted a cat any larger than himself would have gotten through; the entrance of the cave seemed to have been made for him alone. He patted the ground for a something to grasp, stretching his toes out wide, only to gasp as he felt his claws slide out. Blazingpaw let out an admiring mewl, and stepped back as the young tom's claws sank deep into the dirt. With a firm grip on the ground, Link began to pull himself through the entrance. Within minutes, he was free, standing and blinking in the midday sun. Craterfire gave a satisfied nod.

"I knew you could do it." He glanced at the sky, then behind him. Link saw a small gray cat seated there quietly. "Rockpelt, Lavastar took a hunting patrol out not that long after we left. Would you be so kind as to find her and tell her we've found a rogue on our territory, a rogue who she should probably speak with? We shall meet her back at the camp."

The gray tom nodded. "Of course, Craterfire," he whispered, and padded up the rocky trail in silence.

Craterfire sighed as he watched him go, then turned to Link. "What is your name?" he asked.

"Link," the golden tomcat answered. The warrior nodded.

"A solid name," he meowed. "Well, unless you haven't already figured it out, my name is Craterfire, and this"—he flicked his tail to the excited young she-cat beside him—"is Blazingpaw, my apprentice."

"Your ears are weird," Blazingpaw mewed without any sort of greeting of her own. "Really, they're so big! And pointy!" She opened her mouth to say more, but Craterfire slapped his tail over her muzzle.

"Hush," he muttered. Link couldn't smother a smug grin at the sight of the chatty she-cat being silenced. Blazingpaw wrinkled her nose at him and flattened her ears. "He may very well be training with you, Blazingpaw—it wouldn't be wise to make an enemy out of him." Blazingpaw glanced at her mentor, looking as if she's like to protest, but was silent.

Craterfire flicked his tail towards the two younger cats, then started up a narrow side trail that Link hadn't noticed before. Before following, though, he glanced up the main path, noting with a kind of amazement that it was the Death Mountain Trail—the trail that led to Dodongo Cavern and Goron City. The route looked completely different now that he was cat-sized. Blazingpaw gave his ears an impatient lashing with her tail and jerked her head towards Carterfire's retreating back.

"C'mon, get a move on," she ordered. Link scrambled after the warrior, nearly tripping himself with his own paws as he did so. He padded along the rocky path, glancing over his shoulder at the golden she-cat.

"Tell me, Blazingpaw," he began, "are you by any chance part of MountainClan?"

Blazingpaw rolled her eyes. "No, I'm from FieldClan," she mewed sarcastically, a good-natured glint appearing in her green gaze. "Of course I'm part of MountainClan, you stupid furball! Why do you ask?"

"In my dream, the she-cat told me I was going to live with MountainClan," the tom replied.

"Well, I guess StarClan has taste." Blazingpaw padded up to walk beside him, giving her head a proud tilt. "After all, FallsClan are just a bunch of wetheads, FieldClan are a passel of quivering rabbits, and ForestClan are just plain evil."

"Now, now, Blazingpaw," Craterfire scolded gently, turning over his shoulder to look at the little she-cat. "You don't have to downplay other Clans in order to look loyal to your own. I know many ForestClan cats who have good hearts. Besides, we have no trouble with them."

"Yeah, they're FallsClan's problem."

Link looked from cat to cat curiously. "Who are FallsClan and FieldClan?" he asked innocently. Blazingpaw looked at him in utter amazement.

"Great StarClan," she breathed, "even Leaf knows all four Clans, and she's a kittypet!" Shaking her head slowly, she answered, "There are four Clans in this land, you know. MountainClan—which is going to be your Clan, I hope—FallsClan, ForestClan, and FieldClan."

"FieldClan's territory stretches from the banks of the river, to the horseplace, to the Gray Stone Wall, and to the edge of the forest," Craterfire put in. "ForestClan occupies the entirety of the Great Forest, as well as the Labyrinth Woods and the Ancient Twolegplace. FallsClan's land goes from the caves near the Great Fall to the field, following the river but skirting the plateau we call Fourstones."

"Fourstones is where we meet every full moon for a Gathering," Blazingpaw informed him. "We call it that because there are four large rocks, one for each Clan leader to stand on, atop the plateau." Link nodded. "There's going to be another Gathering next week—I hope I get chosen to go!"

"Is it a big deal?"

Blazingpaw scoffed. "Do you have smoke in your brain?" she asked. "Of _course_ it's a big deal! It's the only time when all four Clans can meet in peace. I've never been chosen to go, although Brownpaw says it's a lot of fun."

Craterfire flung up his tail suddenly, halting the two young cats in their tracks. The path they were on ended in front of a wall of brambles. He turned back to face them. "Link, you said you used to be a Twoleg?" he asked. The young tom nodded. "I suppose you'll have to be taught how to use your nose, then. Well, we are very close to MountainClan's camp now. Tell me: Can you scent it?"

Link took a few paces forward, stretching out his neck to sniff the air. He could pick up a very earthy, smoky smell, which seemed to be mingled closely with an odor the back of his mind identified as cat. Musky male, airy female...though his nose couldn't pick out much of a difference between the two, his brain knew it was there and convinced his nose that it was. He opened his mouth to answer yes, only to hesitate. The air he had inhaled had brushed up against the roof of his mouth and, inexplicably, he had _smelled_ something on it. The golden tabby tom padded ahead again, drawing air over his scent glands eagerly. Suddenly he could smell the difference between male and female, old and young—it was clear as day! Turning back to Craterfire, he nodded eagerly.

"Wonderful. This way." The tortoiseshell tom trotted down a small slope to the left. Blazingpaw bounded up to walk beside Link, and together they followed the path around the brambles to come to a small gap in the thorny plants.

"That's the entrance to our camp," Blazingpaw explained. "It takes a while to get used to going in and out. You've got short fur, though, so you probably won't have to worry about getting snagged in the thorns." She stepped back to let Link through first.

Once past the thorn barrier, the golden tom could only gaze around in amazement. The MountainClan camp was situated in a bowl cut out of the rocks of the mountain, not unlike Goron City. Right across from the entrance stood a straggly tree with twisted branches, one of which grew flat before it curved up. The tree's roots grew around a shadowed cave in the rock wall, and as Link watched, a small, pale-furred cat appeared from the darkness with a wad of moss clamped in his jaws. On the right side of the camp stood a couple of bushes, which shielded the entrance to another cave in the rock face. Across from that was another cave, and beside that, a massive hollow log. Perhaps most interesting of all was a small flat space a little ways up the side of the rock face, which was connected to the ground level by way of a winding trail.

Link could have looked around the camp forever, but Blazingpaw gave an impatient growl and shoved him aside so that she could enter. He turned to her with eyes full of questions, and the she-cat looked only too happy to oblige. She flicked her tail towards the horizontal limb of the warped tree. "That's the Highbranch, where Lavastar call the Clan together," she explained. "Her den is in the cave at the roots of the tree—see it?" She padded forward, flicking her tail for Link to follow, and started towards the cave shielded by bushes. "That's the warriors' den, where cats like Craterfire sleep. Warriors are cats who have finished their apprentice training, and they can basically do whatever they want."

They padded together over to a nearby bush with spreading branches. As they neared, Link saw that the ground beneath the bush had been painstakingly scraped away at least two feet deep, resulting in a kind of underground cave. Blazingpaw nodded towards it. "That's the apprentices' den," she mewed. "Apprentices are cats who are at least six moons old. They train under a warrior mentor, learning how to hunt and fight." Her eyes glinted. "Ours is the best den—it's so cool in greenleaf, and in leaf-bare, you can see the stars through the gaps in the branches."

She led him next to the cave across the camp. "This is the nursery, where queens and their kits live. Usually a she-cat who is pregnant will continue fighting as a warrior until she gets too big to be helpful."

"And I guess the kits leave when they're ready to become apprentices?" Link asked.

"You got that right!" Blazingpaw sighed happily. "You know, I was apprenticed three moons ago with my brother Ghostpaw. And in another two moons, Smokekit and Firekit will be apprenticed." She purred at the thought; then, giving herself a quick shake, pointed her tail at the log. "That's the elders' den. As an apprentice, you're expected to make sure they have fresh moss for their nests, and to go over their pelts for ticks...basically it's your job to take care of them. In return, they'll usually tell you stories about our ancestors." She wrinkled her nose. "Watch out for Tornear, though. She's always really cranky."

Link nodded, tilting his head back curiously to look up at the higher cave. Blazingpaw followed his gaze. "Oh, that? That's Sagewhisker's den—she's our medicine cat. If you get hurt or don't feel well, she's the one to go to. Take the path up to her den."

"It's amazing," Link whispered. Blazingpaw shrugged lightly.

"It's home," she told him. "Well, it's _my_ home. But who knows...Maybe it'll be yours too. It all depends on what Lavastar decides."

"What I decide on what?" a voice behind the two young casts asked. Blazingpaw stiffened in surprise, then whipped around. Standing there was quite possibly the largest cat Link had ever seen. Her fur was a dark, rusty ginger, putting him in mind of the molten rock inside the Fire Temple, and her eyes were bright green. She had massive, strong paws at the end of her limber legs. "Who is your friend, Blazingpaw?"

"Th-this is Link, Lavastar," Blazingpaw stammered. "He's a rogue, says he had a dream from StarClan that sent him to us." Link noticed that she tactfully avoided mentioning that he used to be a 'Twoleg.'

Lavastar nodded thoughtfully. "I see," she murmured; her voice was low and smooth. "Well, keep an eye on him, and see to it that he's comfortable here for the time being. Why don't you introduce him to some of the other apprentices?" With a quick nod, she padded between the two of them, and up the trail to Sagewhisker's den. As she passed, Link noticed that she gave him a rather long, appraising look. Once she was gone, Blazingpaw heaved a sigh of relief.

"She seems interested in you," she mewed. "Who knows, maybe she'll want to be your mentor. She doesn't have an apprentice right now, although it's only been about four moons since she finished training Firetail." She shrugged. "Well, I guess there's really nothing we can do except wait for her to make her decision on whether or not you'll stay."

Without another word, the long-furred tabby took off towards the apprentices' den, giving Link no choice but to follow her. He reached the bush just in time to see the tip of her tail disappear down a small slope that led under the bush. With a shrug, he followed her down, blinking in the low light. Blazingpaw stood in front of him, with two other cats sitting behind her.

"This is Brownpaw," she meowed, flicking her tail towards a cat who looked to be mostly grown. In the darkness, Link could barely make out the pattern of her pelt: mottled. Brownpaw nodded, her eyes glowing in friendly greeting. "And this is Goronpaw." The other cat, who appeared to be almost as old as Brownpaw, nodded in greeting.

"I'm Link," the golden tabby tom mewed, looking between the two of them.

"You smell like the trees, but you're not built like a ForestClan cat," Brownpaw noted with some interest. "Is your territory near theirs?"

"I guess so," Link murmured. "I mean, I used to live in the forest before I came here."

"Craterfire and I found him at the far end of the camp trail," Blazingpaw told them. "You know that little tiny crevice that's near there? That's where he was sleeping. He says he wants to join MountainClan." She paused. Again, Link noticed, no mention of his previous species...and no mention of StarClan, either. Was being sent by these cats' gods something to be kept secret? "By the way, have you guys seen Ghostpaw and Fairypaw?"

"Ghostpaw's changing the bedding in Lavastar's den, and I think the elders, too," Brownpaw informed her. "As for Fairypaw...I think she went out on patrol with Dodongofang and Swiftwind."

Blazingpaw turned back to Link, motioning with her tail. "I sleep there, next to Ghostpaw. Brownpaw and Goronpaw's nests are over there, and Fairypaw sleeps in the middle." She paused to think. "There's plenty of room by me and Ghostpaw, so we could probably make you a nest there."

Link didn't point out that it wasn't a given that he would be allowed to stay. He merely grinned and nodded excitedly. Blazingpaw was a cat he could grow to like: She was bright and eager, with a friendly disposition. If he were allowed to live with MountainClan, he would gladly learn how to hunt and fight alongside her. She seemed to be a wonderful friend. His thoughts were interrupted by a familiar, low voice behind him. "Link? Would you come out and speak with me?"

"Sure, Lavastar." The tom glanced around at the other apprentices, all of whom were nodding for him to obey the Clan's leader. He turned around and padded up the small slope, stepping out of the darkness and into the light. He blinked until his eyes adjusted, and he saw Lavastar sitting in front of him.

"Sagewhisker and I would like a word with you," the ginger queen told him as she rose to her feet. She started towards the small trail leading up the side of the rock wall, and Link followed her. At the top of the trail, Lavastar wasted no time entering the cave. The golden tomcat paused, opening his mouth to scent the air. The sweet smell of herbs greeted him, and the scent reminded him of Saria's spice cabinet back in the Kokiri Forest. Comforted by the sense of familiarity it gave him, he padded in behind Lavastar.

Sagewhisker was young and quite beautiful, with fur that seemed to be made up of as many shades of brown as there were stars in the night. Her eyes, blue as the summer sky, glowed in warm greeting as Link stepped into her den. She beckoned him closer with a twitch of her dappled tail. "Greetings, Link," she meowed. "StarClan told me of your arrival, although they sent a cat whom I've never met before. She said her name was Spottedleaf—do you know her?"

"Was she blue-furred, with long ears?" he asked. Sagewhisker shook her head. "The cat who told me to come here was, but she never gave me her name." Sagewhisker, her blue gaze understanding, nodded and drew her tail over his flank lightly.

Lavastar looked from one to the other. "Well, if StarClan told _you_ to come, and told _you _that he would be coming," she murmured, "I guess my decision has been made for me. It's clear that our warrior ancestors want you in MountainClan; who am I to go against them?" She sighed. "You're, what, seven or eight moons?" Frankly, Link wasn't sure how to tell her that his age in months would be over one hundred. He nodded, just to keep things simple; Lavastar nodded as well. "Right. I'll have to think about which cat to mentor you—and of course, your name."

"What's wrong with my name?" Link asked. He felt a strange prickling sensation, almost like goosebumps, along his shoulders. He turned to see the golden hairs there starting to rise defensively. Lavastar shrugged.

"It's a rogue's name," she explained. "If you're going to join MountainClan, you may as well have a Clan name." She studied him. "Perhaps Goldenpaw or Sunpaw?"

"I'd like to keep my name as it is, if that's all right with you," Link muttered. "It's who I am; I can't imagine changing it. Even if my body's changed, my identity hasn't." His last sentence caused the ginger she-cat to look at him curiously. "I guess I should explain that...See, I wasn't born a cat. I used to be a Hylian—a Twoleg as you cats say."

Lavastar turned to Sagewhisker, who nodded in confirmation. "Spottedleaf said he would be a Twoleg who had become a cat," she pointed out mildly. Lavastar nodded grimly.

"All right," she conceded. "If that's the way it is, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to leave your name the way it is for now; although, if it gets to be uncomfortable, having cats ask you why your name doesn't end in 'paw' like other apprentices, let me know. There's a ceremony to change it." She looked him up and down again, as if assessing him. "We'll hold a meeting later this afternoon to introduce you to the rest of the Clan, as well as get you assigned to a mentor. In the mean time, why don't you hang around with the other apprentices?"

Link nodded, dipping his head to the two she-cats before making his way down the path again. Blazingpaw was waiting for him at the bottom. Her head was cocked to the side, and behind her was the small gray tomcat Link had noticed earlier. She flicked her head to indicate. "This is my brother, Ghostpaw. I was telling you about him earlier."

It was hard to believe Ghostpaw was Blazingpaw's littermate. Like the moon compared to the sun, Ghostpaw was pale and distant, whereas Blazingpaw was bright and friendly. His amber eyes never met the other tom's for more than a few seconds. His fur was light gray, and his paws were unusually small. Link nodded in greeting, and Ghostpaw returned the gesture. "So, you'll be sleeping with us?" he asked quietly, his voice the barest of mews. Link nodded.

"What did Lavastar want?" asked Blazingpaw eagerly. Link hesitated, then shrugged.

"It's nothing, really," he told her. "She just told me to get ready for this afternoon. She wants me to be a part of MountainClan." He thought it best not to mention the medicine cat's confirmation that StarClan had sent him. Blazingpaw did a happy caper and pushed her nose into his fur. The touch startled the young tom, and for a heartbeat, her jerked away. Then he realized that it was just a gesture of happiness, and he returned it. He moved towards Ghostpaw to offer a similar nose-touch, but the gray tom leaned back. Shrugging, Link followed the two apprentices back to their den.

**

* * *

**

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Highbranch for a Clan meeting!"

Link jerked his head up in surprise at the sudden yowl coming from the twisted tree at the end of the camp. He and Blazingpaw had been "sharing tongues", grooming each other's pelts in the warmth of the sun. According to the golden she-cat, sharing tongues was a way of bringing the Clan closer together; however, for here and now, it only made Link feel awkward. He'd watched cats lick themselves clean before, yes...but he'd never actually tried it. He had felt as though he were doing everything wrong, and he'd constantly stopped to ask Blazingpaw if he was doing it right. The apprentice would merely purr in reassurance and continue her grooming of his fur. He had to admit...The feeling of her tongue on his pelt _was _rather calming.

At Lavastar's call, Blazingpaw looked up from her friend's flank and stretched. "C'mon," she mewed. "We're included in the whole 'catch their own prey' bit." She rose to her paws and bounded over to where Brownpaw and Goronpaw sat. Link followed after her, feeling a little hesitant. Even if he _were _old enough to catch his own prey, he doubted he really could. He'd only hunted with a slingshot and a bow before, both of which were difficult to use without opposable thumbs.

As he padded towards the apprentices, Link noticed a strange, warm, feminine scent drifting towards him. He turned, only to gape in shock. Sauntering across the sandy floor of the camp was a gorgeous white she-cat. Her neatly-shaped head was cocked up at a high angle, and her eyes—which Link would later noticed were amber—were closed lightly. As she moved, he saw that her snowy pelt had a captivating bluish tint to it, unmarred by the dry dust of the mountain paths. She strode across the camp to take her seat behind Goronpaw; the brown tom barely spared her a glance as he shifted to the side to let her see better.

Walking on air, Link padded after her, taking a seat beside Blazingpaw. He looked up into the branches of the tree and saw Lavastar crouched on the horizontal branch. She waited a few moments before speaking again, "Cats of MountainClan, I called you together to introduce a new cat to you." She flicked her tail toward Link, who stood up and looked around. "He is a rogue, named Link."

Almost immediately, Link wanted to sit back down. Every eye turned to him, some friendly, others suspicious, a few even hostile. He gulped as Lavastar continued, "He wishes to join our Clan, and he is willing to follow the warrior code. I am willing to give him a chance to try his paw at Clan life." She looked around to the assembled Clan, where murmurs had begun to break out. "Does any cat object to his joining?"

Silence fell. Link allowed himself a quiet sigh of relief. Clearly, Lavastar was well-respected enough that her desires shaped those of the whole Clan. He recalled what Blazingpaw had told him: That Lavastar had been Clan leader longer than most cats could remember. Some cats, she'd said, probably thought that Lavastar had _begun_ MountainClan.

He cut off his thoughts as Lavastar began again. "Then if there are no objections, I will continue. He is of apprenticing age; therefore, he shall join our Clan as an apprentice. He shall keep his rogue name, though." She paused. "I will take it upon myself to mentor him, as he has potential I want to bring out personally."

And with that, she leapt down from the Highbranch and strode towards Link. Blazingpaw gave the young tomcat a hefty nudge that nearly sent him sprawling across the ground. The ginger queen bent her head down. "Touch noses with me," she commanded in a whisper, and Link obeyed, feeling a bolt of excitement race through him from ears to tail. MountainClan's own leader was going to be his mentor? He stepped back, his eyes shining. Lavastar gave him an encouraging purr that seemed to fill the silent air.

Silent...?

Link looked around the gathered Clan nervously. Blazingpaw had told him that all new apprentices were greeted by their Clanmates upon receiving their mentor assignments. It seemed that those cats who had given him friendly looks earlier were being intimidated by those who had not. He swore every single cat in the camp could hear his pounding heart and smell his fear—at least, that's what he _thought _that sharp, bitter smell coming from his golden flanks was. Glancing at Lavastar, he gulped again.

"Hey, Link!" That was Blazingpaw. The tabby queen bounded forward and gave him a friendly nuzzle. She was followed by Goronpaw, who gave him a hearty nudge on the shoulder. Brownpaw followed, then quiet Ghostpaw. The white she-cat Link had noticed earlier watched with a kind of aristocratic air, her lip beginning to curl.

The golden tom was jolted away from thoughts of her by a lick behind the ears from Craterfire. "Welcome to the Clan, Link!" he meowed.

"I think you'll rather enjoy having Lavastar for your mentor," a small black tom told him. Link noticed that his tail was a bright and fiery orange. "She's a tough one, but you'll learn a lot from her. I know I did." He paused. "I'm Firetail, by the way."

Soon, nearly every cat was padding forwards to meet him. Link found himself drowning in scents and words of welcome. He looked around in happy amazement, his tail curling up over his head in joy. He could have gone forever, listening to their voices, feeling their fur brushing up against his own, seeing the welcome in their eyes. Some were clearly more sincere than others, but it didn't matter to him. They were his Clan now, and as far as they were concerned, he was one of them.


	4. Chapter 2

That night, Link dreamed that he and Blazingpaw were hunting side by side in the Kokiri Forest. She was laughing at him—surprising, because as far as he knew cats couldn't laugh—laughing at his pitiful attempts to stalk prey. He couldn't help noticing how beautifully that summery sunlight dappled her golden pelt, or how lightly she moved on her paws. He was jealous of her grace, to be sure, but that jealousy was held at bay by the sheer warmth of the dream. To silence her laughter, the tom gave her a light slap with a paw, and they began chasing each other through the Lost Woods. Then Lavastar cut them off, blocking their path with her body.

"Link," she meowed sternly. "Link, wake up. It's time for your first day of training. Link..."

The golden tabby tom opened his eyes slowly, blinking hard to bring them into focus. Lavastar's face was visible at the entrance to the underground den, her green eyes glinting in the semi-darkness. Hastily, Link scrambled to his feet, giving himself a thorough shake to scatter the remainder of his tiredness. Lavastar gave an amused _mrrow_ as she backed away to let him out.

Early morning sunlight painted the MountainClan camp in shades of pale pink and gray. A few crickets still buzzed tunelessly in the background, their scattered choruses giving the impression that the land was not yet ready for the day to arrive. Soft shadows nestled in hollows and crevices around the camp. A fine mist of dew covered the ground, with a few droplets gleaming dully on the leaves of the apprentice den's bush.

Lavastar flicked her tail toward a small overhang of rock, under which was a small pile of what appeared to be dead animals. Link balked—that's _exactly _what they were! "Now, I want you to listen to me very carefully," the MountainClan leader murmured. "The rule that all apprentices live by is that the Clan must be fed first. That means that you should not take prey for yourself until you have hunted to feed nursing queens or the elders. However, since you probably have never hunted in your life, it would be cruel to make you live by that rule just now. Take a piece of prey for your breakfast; we have quite a journey ahead of us today."

"Wh-where are we going?" Link asked, approaching the pile of prey nervously. His stomach churned. There was no telling _how long_ some of these creatures had lain here—it could all very well be crawling with disease! He was hungry, but not _that_ hungry. He shrank back from the pile, his ears flat; Lavastar answered him without seeming to notice his trepidation.

"I decided to show you our Clan's territory today. If you're going to fight for MountainClan, you should know your borders."

Link nodded distractedly. He bent his head and sniffed the body of a small pika, grimacing at its death-smell. The rodent's neck had clearly been snapped by powerful paws, for its head was kinked back at an unnatural angle. He prodded the carcass with a paw, flinching in disgust at how stiff it felt. Certainly the pika had been dead for a day, if not two. How could he be expected to eat something that had been dead so long—and raw, too? Lavastar turned to him and frowned.

"It's fresh-kill," she pointed out bluntly. "It's not like it's going to attack you if you try to eat it." She sighed as the young apprentice poked the pika again. "Look, since you put your paws all over it, you might as well take it. It's not like some other cat's going to want it now."

Link flinched, feeling his tail droop shamefully. Timidly, he took the stiff rodent's body in his jaws and nodded. Lavastar sighed again. "Just eat it," she ordered. "I think you'll find it more to your liking than you expect." She settled down, curling her tail over her paws as if to say _I'm not going to look away until I see that go into your belly._

Swallowing his fear as best he could, Link set the pika down on the dusty ground and put his teeth into its shoulder. The feeling of his fangs scraping against its shoulder blade made him feel ill, but with Lavastar watching him he couldn't back down. He closed his jaws, giving the mouse-like creature a small shake to dislodge the muscle he'd bitten. A small spatter of blood dotted the ground, but it wasn't much. Closing his eyes, the young tabby began to chew.

Almost instantly, his eyes flew open in pleasant surprise. Blood, a taste that normally would have revolted him, now sang over his tongue sweetly. It was the flavor of life, he realized, and it flooded his mouth in a lovely, salty surge. Pika meat was somewhat chewy, but that chewiness reminded him of sweets he had purchased once at the Castle Town Market. He could taste the sweet grass his prey had eaten, feel the sun that had grown that grass, smell the dry dust of the trails; for a heartbeat, he felt as if the entire mountain were filling his being. By the time he'd swallowed, Link was ready for another bite. Lavastar watched him wolf down the pika, purring in amusement.

"I knew you'd enjoy it," she rumbled happily. "Now, once you've finished, I want you to bury your prey's bones. You should get into the habit, because it's a way of showing respect to the animal that gave its life so you could eat." She paused in thought, then added, "Oh, and don't worry about having to eat the innards—no cat will judge you if you don't. Some just don't find them to be to their taste." Link, his mouth full of pika meat, nodded rapidly as he scooped out a shallow hole in the dust. It was the work of an instant to push the dry soil overtop of the bloody bones. Once he had finished, he turned to his mentor.

"I'm ready," he mewed. Lavastar responded by leaning in and giving his muzzle a lick.

"You're _not._ You've got blood all over your face, mousebrain!" Link sat down patiently while the dark ginger queen began grooming his face thoroughly. "You have to remember, Link: Washing is a cat's best friend. Wash when you finish eating—some cats even do it before. Wash when you waken. Wash when you come back from a patrol. The neater your pelt is, the more respectable you appear."

"I'll remember that, thanks," Link told her as she stepped back. He gave his paw a lick and brought it over his head a couple of times.

"Now your flanks and back. They're still messy from sleep." The tom obeyed, smoothing down his ruffled pelt with swift strokes of his tongue. Though it still felt awkward, his experience of sharing tongues with Blazingpaw the previous day made him feel a little more confident. "Good. You have lovely tabby stripes, you know. Very clean, distinctive patterns. Groom that pelt properly, and you'll be a difficult cat to forget." She paused. "All right, that looks good to me. This way."

She led the way out of the camp, sliding through the small gap in the brambles with an ease that belied her burly form. Link followed without hesitation, eager to see just what kinds of land MountainClan had staked out as their own. He bounded up the small slope that led down to the camp swiftly, and padded alongside his mentor. Lavastar gave him a lick on the head, purring her approval. "Don't forget to save your strength," she reminded him. "We have a lot of climbing to do today."

Rather than taking a right, which would have led the back to Death Mountain Trail, the ginger she-cat continued straight, following the path as it peeled away. The trail ran through a small canyon, with sides that reared over the cats' heads. The two sides came close to touching at the top, and they looked like bridges between the clouds. "How high are those cliffs, Lavastar?" he asked curiously, for he figured they couldn't be as tall as he thought they were. Lavastar paused in thought.

"I'd say at least three tail-lengths high," she answered, and the unusual measurement was really no help to Link. "And the gap at the top is probably half a tail-length. Even an apprentice can jump across it, although kits shouldn't be allowed to play up there. Where we're walking now is simply called the Canyon. The elders say that it was carved out by generations of MountainClan cats walking over the ground. They say that over time, our pawsteps wore away the rock, turning it to sand, and created this gorge, which is just wide enough to let two warriors walk side-by-side."

"The sand on the ground is soft," Link mewed, dragging his paw over it wonderingly. Lavastar nodded.

"On hot days, some cats will share tongues here rather than at the camp, because it's cooler," she explained. "Back when I was a warrior, I would come here between patrols and my duties in greenleaf and take naps." She flicked her tail toward a small hollow. "Usually it was there, where I could curl up without blocking the trail."

The Canyon was fairly long, and by the time it began to slope upwards, Link was starting to feel tired. But he followed Lavastar loyally, dragging himself up the incline until he was sitting beside her at the top. A dim smudge of green and gray to the west put the young tom in mind of the Castle Gardens—and then he realized that that was exactly what he was looking at! It looked so far away, but that was likely due to how high up he was. Lavastar tapped him with her tail to gain his attention, then pointed to a scattering of dark caverns in the rock a little lower on the mountainside. "Those caves lie on our territory; however, you are never to go there. Those are the Wolfos Caves, where a pack of Wolfoses live. They will usually leave a cat alone, but they have been known to chase, attack, and kill seasoned warriors. The elders say that MountainClan's first leader, Redstar, made a pact with the Wolfoses stipulating that as long as we do not enter their territory, they will leave our Clan alone. Usually border patrols will go down to the area above the caves, lay their markers, and continue along the ridge."

She rose again and started to the right, and Link followed her. The sun was now fully risen above the eastern horizon, but the stone beneath his paws was still night-cool. The smoothness of it made the young cat wonder if he was traveling on an oft-used path. The trail sloped downwards, leading into a pocket of greenery. Link let out an astonished mewl at the sight. Lavastar nodded. "There are a few places like this on MountainClan's land," she meowed. "We call them Fairygroves because, usually"—she led him between two bushes; Link felt the stone beneath his paws change to grass—"they show up around these."

In the center of the patch of greens was a large, round pool with shimmering waters. As Link watched Lavastar approached and dabbled a paw in the water. Almost instantly, a flurry of sparkling fairies took off in flight, looping around the two cats in excited whirls. Link mewed his joy at the sight. "The water is safe to drink," Lavastar continued. "And the prey that you find here is safe for hunting. Sagewhisker and her apprentice, Brushpaw, usually come here in search of their healing herbs."

"The fairies will heal you, too," Link pointed out, raising a paw to bat at one. The gesture startled him in how automatic it was—and how good it felt. Lavastar shook her furry head.

"That's what the rumors say," she meowed. "But the story goes that one day, a young apprentice caught and killed a fairy, thinking he would impress his mentor. The fairies were outraged by the act, and they retracted their healing powers from catkind." She shrugged. "But we have medicine cats to heal us, so it's not like we are without help." Flicking her tail to summon the young tomcat, she padded towards the edge of the Fairygrove. "Come, we still have much more to see." Link pushed his nose against one of the furry fairy's bodies before bounding after her. He felt recharged from his brief visit to the fairies' pool—perhaps some of their restorative magic had worked on him because he had once been a Hylian. Whatever it was, he was more than ready to continue the trek.

Lavastar indicated a dark tunnel in the rock about two cats high. "We have two such tunnels in our territory," she began. "This is the longer of the two, and it takes nearly half a day to travel though." Link gasped. "You see, we call this the Longtunnel for a reason. It runs almost from one end of our territory to the other; on the other side, you're right outside FallsClan's land. We use the Longtunnel to travel to Gatherings, because it puts you out almost directly across from Fourstones. We won't travel it today, though it's worth pointing out."

She continued along the ridge at a brisk pace, leaving Link the choice of either falling behind or breaking into a run to keep up. He chose to keep up, stretching his gangly legs wide to match his mentor's pace. His muscles and joints groaned in protest as his paws slammed against the smooth rock, but he did not relent. He had to show his leader that he was strong enough to be a useful cat in MountainClan. Lavastar beamed at him and slowed down slightly. Their burst of running had carried them over a gentle, but rather long, incline; this seemed to have been the she-cat's plan, to keep their time on the tedious slope as brief as possible. She turned to Link and mewed, "Now we're coming to the higher part of MountainClan's land. How are you holding up?"

The golden tabby tom was out of breath, but he flicked his tail to indicate he was ready for anything. Lavastar purred a short congratulations and sat down atop a high ridge. Looking down, Link realized that he could see the MountainClan camp—even see the small blurs of color that were cats leaving their dens! He turned his head to look around at the view, his eyes growing wide in awe. There was the Canyon—and a few scattered bits of green that were sure to be more Fairygroves—and even...Kakariko? He pointed with his tail towards the small cluster of box-like shapes across the gorge that was Death Mountain Trail, wordlessly asking his mentor what the cats called that place. Lavastar nodded.

"That's Twolegplace," she meowed. "Our territory on this side ends there, but it skirts around the Ghost Lands and continues along the ridge outside. Even though you were once a Twoleg, I would advise against visiting that place. A true warrior knows he has no place with those strange animals, especially not in their nests." Her eyes hardened into sharp-edged emeralds. "StarClan's decree or not, if I ever get word that you've eaten Twoleg food, Link, I will cast you from my Clan. MountainClan has no room for cats who want to eat like kittypets." Link nodded rapidly, drawing back a bit out of fear. Lavastar nodded curtly, her eyes softening again. "The ridge we're on has no real name," she continued as if nothing had happened. "Some cats come up here to admire the view, others to sun themselves...Myself, I use it as a private place to think."

Pausing, she flicked her tail towards a nearby area. Link glanced around her back, gazing in interest at the sight. Surrounded by jagged spires of rock and a few scraggly trees was a large, smooth hollow. It was probably about twelve feet in diameter, and the floor of it was lined with what looked like the same satiny sand found on the ground of the Canyon. "Over there is our preferred training hollow," she told him. "You'll be spending quite a bit of time there if you're going to be _my_ apprentice. That is where we will practice fighting techniques, so keep your claws sharp." There was a playful threat in her voice, but her size made Link a little nervous.

Standing, the she-cat padded along the ridge smoothly, although Link noticed that her tail was constantly stiffening and shifting from side to side. He realized that his own tail was doing the same, without his conscious thought, and wondered if it was helping them to stay steady—like a tightrope walker's pole. _MountainClan must have the best balance out of all the Clans,_ he thought admiringly. At the edge of the ridge, Lavastar stopped and turned over her shoulder to glance at him. "I've chosen the middle route for this part, but just so you know, our land extends nearly to the peak of the mountain"—she flicked her tail up to indicate—"all the way around Rockwalkers' Caverns, and down around Twolegplace."

"Rockwalkers?" Link repeated, leaping after her as she jumped nimbly off the ridge to land on the trail below. His landing lacked much of the limber grace that hers had, but at least he hadn't fallen over. Lavastar nodded.

"They're somewhat like Twolegs, but they smell of rocks and dirt," she told him. "Sometimes they curl into balls and roll down the mountainside like runaway boulders—it's very noisy when they do it. They tend to leave our warriors alone, although one or two cats have chosen to live with them after being fed and stroked." Her hackles started to rise stiffly, giving Link the impression that she utterly despised any lifestyle that was not Clan. "But, again, I don't have to worry about that happening to you. You're a loyal MountainClan cat."

"Of course!" Link sputtered eagerly, hoping to diffuse her tension. Lavastar flicked his ear playfully with her tailtip and bounded along the wide path they had started along, leaving the young apprentice to wonder if she had been jokingly exaggerating her anger.

"This is the path that most Twolegs use when they climb the mountain," she told him. "Our warriors rarely set paw on it; however, today I feel like showing it to you from our perspective. Also, it's a rather efficient way to get to the other edge of our territory." She led him up the sloping path that wound its way up to Goron City—or, as the cats called it, Rockwalkers' Caverns. However, rather than taking the left that would lead them into the Gorons' caves, Lavastar continued straight on, pouncing seemingly off the edge of the cliff. Link bounded up behind her, eyes wide with fear, only to realize that his mentor was standing on a small spur of rock he'd never seen before. He panted, feeling both relieved and tired. "This way. Just a little bit further, and then you can rest, Link."

Sighing, the golden tabby tom made the leap of faith down to join his mentor on the rock below. He felt her teeth grip the scruff of his neck just to be on the safe side—a sensation that made him feel strangely secure, rather than hurt.** (1)** Then, once she was sure his paws were steady, she released him. "You've got a natural jumping ability, which should serve you well," she meowed. "Although said ability needs to be tempered a bit before we can call you a true MountainClan cat. Perhaps we can work on some jumping exercises this week—all apprentices do them, so you shouldn't feel singled out." Waving her tail, she led him down a narrow trail. "Once we get those exercises in, you'll be able to leap from rock to rock to make your way down this path. Press your flank against the wall for now, though." Link obeyed, trying not to gaze down at the dizzying drop beneath his feet. The path where he walked was barely three times the width of his paws, and the fact that it zigzagged down the side of the mountain did not improve this.

After a few moments, Lavastar extended her tail to him. "Hold onto it with your mouth if you'd like," she offered over one shoulder. "Just don't bite down too hard if you do. This is how we get kits down from high places where they've managed to strand themselves—it helps them stay steady."

"If I grab your tail, won't _you _have trouble balancing?" Link asked. Lavastar shook her head.

"Not with my shoulder to the wall." She gave him a warm look. "Or if you'd rather, I could wrap it around your neck. That also helps, especially if the kit's mouth is too small to grip the warrior's tail." Link nodded, and Lavastar curled her ginger-brown tail around his throat gently, like a mother's arms around her child. "Soon enough, you'll feel so confident on these slopes that you'll be offended if a warrior asks if you need help."

Joined together by the she-cat's muscular appendage, the two cats made their way down the winding, narrow trail without much trouble at all. Link found it much easier to balance with the sense of security Lavastar's tail gave him. He knew that if he should slip, the tail wrapped around his neck would not save him...but knowing it was there made him feel safer, and that gave him confidence that guided his plump paws. He recalled her previous apprentice, Firetail's, words to him last night: _She's a tough one, but you'll learn a lot from her._ Lavastar didn't seem particularly tough now; was it possible she was mercifully giving him time to adjust to Clan life?Even if this was as tough as she would get, Link was certainly learning a lot from her now.

At the end of the trail, Lavastar unwound her tail from around her apprentice's neck and hopped onto the flat ground below. "What we just traveled down is a trail called the Lightning Path," she informed him. "We call it that because it's so jagged and angular—like lightning. If you look back at it now, I'm sure you can see that, as well as the rocks that most warriors leap on to scale it." Sure enough, Link could see that the sides of the Lightning Path were studded with flat-topped spurs of rock. He looked around at the flat ground on which he stood, grateful to be done with that long, steep incline. Lavastar flopped down on the sandy ground, stretching her legs.

"Well, how do you feel so far?" she asked. Link lay down next to her and nosed his raw pawpads tenderly. "Ah, you've got soft pads, do you? No worry—Sagewhisker can help you out with that for the time being. After a few moons of trekking up and down the mountain, you'll have hard pads like the rest of the Clan." She turned over a forepaw and showed him. "Give it a feel and see what I'm talking about."

Curiously, Link prodded the gray skin with his nose, startled to find that it felt like rubbing his muzzle against a brick wall. Lavastar's pawpads were hard and rough-skinned, and looked as though nothing could cut them. He turned back to his own paws, the pads of which had started out the day rose-pink. They were a rather dark fuchsia color now, and one of his toe-pads looked like it was about to start bleeding. He sighed hopelessly, telling himself that one day he would have hard pads just like Lavastar and the rest of the Clan. Lavastar gave him a lick behind the ears and pointed with her tail to a large scarlet blur just below them. "That's Redstones," she explained. "It's technically part of our territory, but we usually don't go there. A loner by the name of Rusty has claimed that area as his own, and frankly, we have no real need to drive him out—he usually gets his food from Twolegplace. Rusty is also gentle and friendly, and he's been known to bring lost apprentices back to the camp if he finds them."

Link nodded, pricking up his ears suddenly at the sound of tiny feet. The movement happened without his conscious thought, but it barely startled him. Even as a Hylian, he had been able to move his ears to some degree; he'd used that ability to hear monsters that were trying to ambush him in the shadows. He sniffed the air and picked up the scent of pika, recognizing it from his meal earlier that morning. The memory of its rich flavor made his mouth water, and he licked his whiskers self-consciously. Lavastar let out a muffled _mrrow_.

"Are you hungry?" she asked. The tom started to shake his head, then shrugged and nodded.

"A little. But shouldn't I feed the Clan first?" he countered nervously, wondering if her offer was some kind of test.

"One can only feed the Clan if they know how to hunt," the queen murmured, winking at him. She rolled onto her back. "Well, if you're not that hungry, we can keep resting. Once your belly starts to rumble, though, I'll bring you to watch how I do it. Maybe seeing a hunter in action will help you figure it out faster once you start training."

Link sighed contentedly and let his head rest in the sand, feeling the noon sunlight soak into his golden pelt like water into dry soil. He was glad to be where he was, enjoying the warmth with his new mentor. Without really thinking about it, the tomcat pulled a paw close to his muzzle and gave it a couple of licks. Not long after that, he felt another tongue behind his head, and realized that Lavastar had rolled onto her belly and wanted to share tongues. Eagerly, he scooted closer to her and began to groom her chest. The two cats lounged in the sunlight, cleaning each other's pelts in comfortable silence...until Link began to rumble.

He felt the vibrations in his throat at first, soft and noticeable only to him. Then that buzz began to spread through his body, filling his chest with a hum that sounded like that growling of stormclouds. The sensation startled him, but he couldn't seem to stop it. Every time he breathed, the sounds issued forth in a growing chorus like distant thunder. Turning to Lavastar in confusion, he saw the she-cat beaming at him. Similar sounds were coming from her body as well. "You've learned how to purr, I see," she mewed, her voice rich with the feline thunder. Link opened his mouth to laugh in triumph, only to come out with a short explosive purr: _mrrow._ He froze, blinking in surprise. Lavastar nipped his ear affectionately. "Well, you _are_ a cat, aren't you, Link? Why so surprised to be making cat sounds? It's only natural." There was a teasing light in her emerald eyes as she spoke, a glimmer which made the summer sunlight seem all the warmer.

They relaxed, purring, in the golden light of midday for a good while longer, until Link's stomach began to growl for food. Turning sheepishly to Lavastar, he mewed, "I guess that means we should hunt?" The burly ginger queen nodded in agreement, flicking her tail for her apprentice to follow.

"There's another Fairygrove not far from here," she meowed, padding down a trail that was much wider than—but almost as steep as—the Lightning Path. "Something tells me we'll find something big enough for both of us to eat there."

As they neared the Fairygrove, Lavastar began to scent the air, nodding for her apprentice to do the same. Link sniffed obediently, only to encounter an unfamiliar odor. It reminded him vaguely of pika, but it seemed somewhat dryer and more earthy. Lavastar nodded, flicking her tail towards a sapling tree just inside the grove. "Make your way into the tree so you can watch." She waited until the young tabby had clawed his way up to one of the thicker branches before dropping into a smooth hunter's crouch. Once more, Link was awed at how lightly and gracefully these muscular Clan cats moved—and ashamed at how clumsy he would look in comparison. The tip of Lavastar's tail twitched, attracting his attention; the ginger tailtip flicked to the left, pointing towards her intended prey.

At first glance, Link thought he was looking at an earless rabbit. The gray-brown animal was certainly similar in appearance, but a closer look put him more in mind of an overfed guinea pig. The creature was nibbling happily at the greens around it, totally unaware of the ginger cat intent on ending its grazing days forever. Lavastar prowled closer, her eyes narrowed in focus. The golden tom in the tree caught his breath, his heart thudding excitedly in his chest. She was barely the length of a cat's tail—suddenly the phrase "tail-length" made sense to Link—away when she sprang, slamming her paws down on her prey's back. The creature let out a high-pitched call before Lavastar clamped her fangs around its throat. It struggled before falling still. Waving her tail to beckon Link, the leader of MountainClan dragged her catch out of the small pocket of greenery.

"This is a hyrax," she explained, placing a paw on it triumphantly. "Some cats call them mountain rabbits, but I've never seen a rabbit as big as a hyrax. They're a little more difficult for smaller cats to take down, but a grown warrior usually has no trouble tackling them. Go on, try a bite and see if you like it."

Hesitantly, Link sank his teeth into the hyrax's flank. The sudden gush of blood that filled his mouth startled him, but after his experience earlier that day, he was almost eager to taste it. It was even more bright this time, perhaps because the hyrax's body was still warm with life. Just as he had smelled, its flesh was somewhat dryer than the pika's, and definitely more earthy. Eagerly, he gulped down his share, which barely cleaned half of the hyrax, then stepped back to allow Lavastar to eat. In awe, he watched as the she-cat easily stomached the remainder of the meat. She winked a green eye at him and began to wash. Self-conscious, Link began to groom his face as well.

"Prey that has just been killed is the best of all," she told him. "Usually, only cats who are on border patrol get to enjoy this, because they aren't expected to bring fresh-kill back to the Clan. Hunting patrols, on the other paw, go out for the sole purpose of feeding other cats." Link nodded, rising to his feet expectantly. Lavastar purred as she swiped her tongue over her whiskers one last time. Her apprentice watched as she scooped out a hole in which to bury the hyrax's bones, then covered them with the dusty soil."All right, let's continue on our way."

Skirting Redstones, Lavastar led Link down a wide, flat piece of the mountain trail that was dotted with small fissures. "Mind your paws as you come down here," she warned him. "Last year, one of our warriors, Hillfire, caught his paw in one of those cracks and broke it. I'd hate to have an apprentice—especially _my_ apprentice—suffer that same fate." Link nodded and began walking even closer to his mentor's side; many of the fissures were difficult to see, and Lavastar seemed to know exactly where all of them were.

At the end of the trail, she nodded off the edge of the cliff. "Here is a closer look a Twolegplace," she meowed. "Over there"—she flicked her tail towards the area behind the Windmill—"is the Ghost Lands. I advise you stay as far from that place as you can. It's not a good place for cats."

"Or Hyl—Twolegs," Link added, correcting himself quickly. Lavastar looked at him curiously. "I went there when I was a Twoleg once or twice. Don't worry, I have no intention of going back if I can help it." The ginger queen pushed his muzzle into his shoulder before looking up at the position of the sun.

"Hmm. Just after sunhigh," she mused. "If we headed back now, we'd be there before the sun sets"—she glanced down at her apprentice—"which is probably for the best." She raised her voice to a conversational volume. "Are you starting to get tired, Link?"

"A little."

"Come on, we've been on our paws all day. If you're tired, just say so; there's no shame in it." Her eyes gleamed. "Actually, you've held up far better than I expected. Why don't we head back to camp?"

The golden tom shrugged, then nodded. "If you say so, Lavastar," he mewed politely, secretly glad that she had suggested returning to the camp. His paws were throbbing, and his legs were incredibly sore. He felt as if a brush with a Kees's thin, leathery wing would knock him to the ground.

Lavastar rubbed her head against his, and after initial hesitation, Link returned the gesture. The she-cat led him down the side trail, her massive paws skimming the ground lightly as she walked. Link, however, felt as though his paws were heavy enough to shake the mountain. He followed her to the edge of a tunnel, about as high as the Longtunnel.

"Remember the other tunnel I told you about?" Lavastar asked, as if she had read Link's mind. "Well, here it is. It's the Littlerun—so called because it's rather short, and even shorter if you run it."

"So going through it is like a 'little run'?"

"Exactly. Are you one of those cats who gets cleverer as they get more tired?" Lavastar flicked his ear with the tip of her tail. "You go in first. Run if you think you've got the strength to, but feel free to walk."

Link stepped closer to the entrance of the Littlerun tunnel, his whiskers stretching to try and brush the edges. A few steps in, though, he realized that using them to guide his feet was unnecessary; every few tail-lengths small patches of the tunnel ceiling had been opened up, and shafts of daylight dotted the smooth floor. The scant light was more than enough for his feline eyes to see with. He padded through the tunnel, gazing around in interest. The air inside the passage was cool, shielded from the hot glare of the sun by the stony walls; however, placing his paws in the spots of sunlight was like sticking it straight into the day. It was a strange sensation, to have one paw in the warmth and another in the cool. At Lavastar's impatient grunt, though, the tom jolted in surprise and began walking a little faster.

"Where does this tunnel lead?" he asked curiously, swiveling his ears around to catch the many echoes of his voice. When his mentor answered, her louder tone of voice seemed to fill the passageway all the more.

"It's almost a straight shot back to our camp, which is why it's one of our best-guarded secrets. If the other Clans knew there was a tunnel that led right to the heart of our territory, they would use it to attack without a second thought."

"That seems cruel." Link frowned, glancing over his shoulder at the queen. "Is there really _that_ much rivalry between the four Clans?"

"Of course there is," Lavastar told him bluntly. "Why does that seem to surprise you, Link?"

The tabby shrugged. "I dunno," he mewed. "I just think it's a little stupid. Why fight for every inch of land? Why attack each other to prove dominance? I mean, if the Clans want to survive, why don't they all join together and share their resources?"

He wasn't expecting the response he got. Lavastar's mighty paw shot out and snagged him by the tail; the young tomcat was dragged across the sand back to where his leader crouched. In the low light, he saw the sparkle of her dagger-sharp fangs. Her green eyes were narrowed into harsh slits. "I am _sincerely_ glad that it's only the two of us in this tunnel right now, young warrior," she hissed, "because let me tell you here and now: No cat will be as gentle as I am if you suggest that to them. They will question your loyalty to your own Clan, for the very idea of helping other Clans unless they are in dire need is _treacherous_."

Her voice became somewhat gentler, as if in response to his fear-stiff fur. "Link, in order to survive, the Clans need dedicated warriors, who will train more dedicated warriors, who will hunt and fight for those who cannot do it for themselves. Cats must be loyal to their own Clan—their _family._ Yes, when times are rough, sometimes a more prosperous Clan will aid a less fortunate one...but only enough to keep four Clans alive." She sighed. "There are four Stones at our sacred meeting place, which means there must be four Clans in this land."

"So the Clans _do_ help each other," Link mewed. He tried to edge away, to stand on his own four feet, but Lavastar's paw still pressed his tail into the sand.

"Yes, but only when we must," Lavastar conceded. "I can sense that you have a just heart, my young apprentice, but you must be very careful with it. Such a heart can get you into trouble in this world."

Link said nothing. The cat from StarClan had told him that it was his duty to save _all_ of the Clans from whatever danger loomed before them. How could he hope to do so if he was bound to be loyal to one Clan—and to make enemies with the other three? With Lavastar's intense stare fixing him to the ground, he couldn't protest. Somehow, he would have to find a way, in secret, to bring the rest of the Clans together to fight off the danger. But not now, not on his first day of apprentice training—that would just be idiotic. Perhaps if he stuck it out until he was a warrior, things would be easier. The tom returned his mind to his mentor, nodding. "I promise I'll be careful, Lavastar," he meowed seriously. "I'm loyal to MountainClan; it's where StarClan sent me, and it's where I'm supposed to be."

Lavastar gave him a lick behind the ears, releasing his tail. "Wonderful," she purred. "I'm sorry if I frightened you, but there was a point I needed to make clear. Cats should be loyal to one Clan, and that means looking out for that one Clan and no one else." She flicked her head. "All right, let's keep moving. We're not even a quarter of the way through yet!" Link let out a pretend wail of disappointment and darted forwards. Lavastar followed, her eyes glinting with mischief.

**

* * *

**

Link emerged from the tunnel to find the land drenched in blood.

He bit back a startled yowl as he realized—feeling foolish—that it was not blood, but the light of the sun as it sank closer towards the edge of the horizon. He shuddered, startled at how quickly his mind had jumped to its conclusion. As a Hylian, he had been a boy of ten years, not even a teenager. Conclusions were the last thing his mind would arrive at; usually, it would wander merrily along, stopping to smell whatever flowers appeared, and sometimes going off the beaten path to discover a completely different subject. An idea that had come on that swiftly and with that much conviction was unnerving to him. Plus, the fact that he had seen the red light as something so ominous as blood...Perhaps it was just his tired mind playing tricks, but at the moment, Link had never been surer that what he'd seen was blood.

Pricking up his ears, he heard the soft chuckling of a stream nearby, as well as Lavastar's paws behind him. He stepped ahead a bit, stumbling over his weary paws, to allow his mentor passage. The muscular she-cat looked him over. "Are you quite all right, Link?" she asked. "You look like you've seen a Wolfos."

"I'm fine," the young tomcat lied, glancing at his paws. How could he tell his leader that he had seen the mountainside soaked in blood? She'd think he was mad! "Just tired, I guess."

"Well, you're in luck." Lavastar flicked her long tail towards a small incline. "Recognize that?" After a second's pause, Link let out a gleeful cry and bounded into the air.

"It's the little hill right outside of the camp!" he mewed excitedly. Lavastar nodded, then flipped her tail to the left.

"If you're thirsty, follow that path down to find the creek," she meowed. "There are a few more on our territory that I didn't show you today, but I don't need to. You'll find them on your own without any trouble at all." She purred softly as the young cat yawned widely. "All right, choose your priority: rest or water."

"Water." Link trotted down the narrow path, not even flinching as his raw pawpads struck the rough ground. He didn't bother looking around at the beauty surrounding the stream; that, he would save for a day when he was less tired. After filling himself with the cool, sweet water, the golden cat limped back along the path, and into the camp.

"Hey, Link! How'd your first day out with Lavastar go?" asked Blazingwing excitedly. Link lifted his head and stared at her with glazed eyes; he couldn't even put two words together to answer. The pretty she-cat faltered. "Right...Well, uh, den's right over there. I bet you tomorrow isn't as rough."

"Thanks," Link grunted, feeling a little sorry for her. He really wasn't being very friendly, but she seemed to grasp that he wasn't in the mood for social interaction. His whole body was one giant, heavy, throbbing ache, and it was a relief to settle down in his nest. Sleep came almost as soon as he closed his eyes.

**(1) Grabbing an animal by its scruff releases a bunch of endorphins, which make it feel all safe and secure. Pretty useful when mama cat wants to transport her kittens without them squalling and struggling. **


	5. Chapter 3

"Wake up, Link! Come on, Lavastar is waiting for you! You have to get up, now!"

One blue eye opened slowly, only to slam shut again and squeeze closed tightly. The golden tabby tom grunted as he stiffly rolled away from the excited voice in his ear. Sleep had not improved the pain in his muscles in the least, and his paws were still throbbing at the ends of his legs. Blazingpaw, the cat who had wakened him, began to shake his shoulder roughly. "Link, I'm not messing around with you!" she insisted. "Lavastar wants you out and training with her. It's almost sunhigh! C'mon, wake _up!"_

"Do I have to go out for training if I'm dead?—because I'm fairly sure that's the case," the young tom mumbled thickly. He rolled over slowly, opening his eyes to look at the golden she-cat. Sunlight slanted between the gaps in the bush's leaves, spotting the floor of the den with warm light. Blazingpaw's face was unusually serious, although worry lurked behind the impatient fire in her leaf-green eyes. "All right, I'll be right there. Just...give me a minute."

"I'm not sure if I can," she mewed. "I've been trying to wake you for _ages_. Lavastar wants the two of us for hunting practice today, and I think she's starting to get impatient. You need to get up, now, Link."

The tom struggled to roll onto his belly, flinching as his raw pads hit the floor of the den. His legs were stiff and unwieldy as he tried to straighten them, and the act of putting weight on his paws sent him crashing to the floor. Blazingpaw let out a worried mewl and darted over to the entrance of the den. "He can't get up," she informed the warrior whose shadow was visible from the inside of the den. "His pads looked pretty raw last night. Maybe it's that."

"Link? Are you all right?" That was the voice of Lavastar, and her face accompanied her voice. The tomcat looked up, grinning sheepishly.

"I'm trying," he told her. "I really am. Sorry it's taking so long."

"Don't; you'll only make it worse." Lavastar withdrew her head. "I'll send Brushpaw in with something for you. Hold tight for the time being." And the sound of her pawsteps faded away. Blazingpaw turned back to her friend, shaking her head in amazement.

"When I was worn out from my first day of training, I never got this kind of treatment," she mewed, looking hurt. Link rolled his eyes and flashed her his pawpads.

"I've got soft paws," he told her bluntly. "They'll harden up like yours given time, but for here and now, they're just holding me back from doing what you can do." He sighed. "By the Three, I could sleep all day." Blazingpaw gave him a weird look. "I mean—by StarClan, or whatever..."

" 'Great StarClan'?" she offered. Link nodded, grateful that someone had decided to help him out with the cats' expressions. Something told him that the Three had little, if any, influence in the world of the Clans; it would probably be best if he avoided mentioning them or taking their names in vain. The blue queen _had_ said that StarClan were somewhat like the cats' Gods and Goddesses—perhaps he would do well to treat them as such. Although, it did feel a little strange to think of uttering oaths like _I swear by StarClan!_ or _In the name of StarClan!_

Not more than a few minutes later, a small brown tomcat appeared at the entrance of the den; he slipped down into the light-dappled darkness smoothly. Once in front of Link, he set down the herbs in his mouth and meowed, "My name is Brushpaw—my mentor, Sagewhisker, says you came to us from StarClan." He dipped his head respectfully. "If you show me your paws, I can get to work on helping them feel a little less sore. These are dock leaves; I'm just going to chew them up and put the juice on your pads."

"Sounds wonderful," Link told him, flipping his paws pad-up. "Thank you." He would have loved to ask for something to ease the jagged cramps in his legs, but he didn't; he couldn't be sure Brushpaw had brought such medicine with him, and he didn't want to make the tabby have to fetch it. Besides, perhaps the best relief would come when he set out for training—a little bit of the hair of the dog that bit him, as the saying went. He gasped as warm liquid trickled across his raw pads, narrowing his eyes as the painful fires were quenched. Brushpaw purred softly.

"Good feeling, isn't it?" he asked. "Dock juice really does wonders for things like this. It's quite soothing." He waited a bit, then stepped back. "All right, try standing on that and tell me how it feels."

Hesitantly, Link rose to his paws. "The fact that I'm standing is a testament to your healing skills," he mewed sincerely. "Thank you." Brushpaw nodded, his eyes narrowed in pleasure. He watched the young tabby pad around the den for a few moments.

"When you return from training, come see me," he ordered, brushing scraps of the dock leaves back into the dried leaf in which he'd brought them. "I'll give you another wash with the dock juice, and we'll see how things look after that." Link nodded. "Then my work here is done. Enjoy your training." With another respectful nod, he left the den. Blazingpaw gave the golden tom a quick glanced before she followed suit. Link stretched each leg in turn, grimacing at the persistent needles of pain that stabbed into his muscles with every motion. He dropped into a low crouch and stretched his back, tail curling lazily behind him. Then, he bounded, somewhat stiffly, out into the sunlight to join his friend.

Lavastar and Craterfire were waiting outside the den, with Blazingpaw standing with her flank brushing her mentor's. The dark ginger queen's head was tilted slightly to one side. "Are you ready, Link?" she asked, and there was a note of concern in her voice. Her apprentice nodded. "This way, then." She turned around and began trotting swiftly towards the entrance to camp. Link jolted in surprise, feeling a little disappointed that she was starting out the day so quickly. He had been hoping to warm up to his exercise gradually; however, it seemed that in MountainClan, you either dove right into your workouts, or you were left in the dust. Not wanting to seem weak, the young tomcat spread his protesting legs into wider strides until he had caught up with the other three cats.

The two warriors led the way towards the Canyon. Link was relieved; the soft sands would feel great on his pads. About halfway through the gorge, Lavastar turned and held up her tail. "Link, you stop here," she meowed, and the young tabby nodded. She continued to pad along the sands for a bit longer, then stopped when she was about a quarter of the way to the end. "Let's see what you've got. Try your best hunter's crouch, and stalk to where I am now."

Link balked, his head shaking slowly from side to side. "I...I can't, Lavastar," he stuttered. "I don't know how."

"Don't know the hunter's crouch?" Blazingpaw let out an amused _mrrow_. "C'mon, Link, you'd have to be a kittypet not to know the basic hunting crouch! It's so easy a suckling kit could do it!" Link lowered his head shamefully; as he did so, he saw a glint appear in Craterfire's green eyes.

"If it's so simple, Blazingpaw, then why don't you show him how it's done?" asked the tortoiseshell. Blazingpaw's amused purring broke off in a choked hiss. The tabby queen looked from her mentor to her friend in confusion. Link lifted his head.

"Yeah, Blazingpaw, show me what I'm supposed to do."

Blazingpaw gulped, shaking her pelt out firmly. "Ri-right," she mewed tremulously. "The h-hunter's crouch. Well, you...you start out by...um, clearing your mind of everything that doesn't have to do with hunting." She twitched. "No, that's stupid—don't do that. No, first thing you have to do is...um..." She gave Craterfire a helpless look.

"Perhaps it would be good to start by crouching down?" the tom offered, whiskers twitching with mild amusement. Link snickered, and Blazingpaw gave him an embarrassed look. "I have an idea, Blazingpaw. Why don't you perform the moves, and have him imitate you?"

The she-cat nodded rapidly. "All right, Link, watch me," she began, sounding much more sure of herself. She dropped down into a swift crouch, her head low, her haunches neatly placed. "Hold your body exactly like I'm holding mine. Even if _you've_ never done this, I'm sure you've seen other cats doing it, right?"

Link nodded. Of course he'd seen cats prowling around. While at Lon-Lon, he had watched the two barn cats, Russie and Trickster, stalking mice in the hay. Taking what he recalled from watching them, and adding those memories to Blazingpaw's posture now, he began to develop an image of what a stalking crouch would look like. It took a bit of work to coax his stiff muscles to move the way he wanted them to, but in the end, he found himself in a position very similar to that of his friend. Craterfire padded forward, his eyes appraising the two young cats' work. He turned back. "If I may, Lavastar...?" The queen nodded. "Thank you. Link, your haunches are placed very well, but your forelegs could use some improvement. Point your paws in the direction you want to stalk, not towards each other. Remember, you'll be prowling, so you'll need to be able to walk in this crouch."

Sheepishly, Link shifted his elbows in slowly, and his feet slid smoothly across the cool sand. Craterfire nodded. "Good. Now, with your current posture, you'll be very visible to your prey, because you're just about standing at your full height. Bring your elbows out from under your belly—that's what's propping you up—and put them right up against your flanks." The young tom obeyed; no wonder his crouch had felt so awkward and uncomfortable.

"The position you had would be good if you were stalking through shallow water," Lavastar told him. "But here in MountainClan, you don't have to worry much about that kind of hunting environment."

Craterfire nodded. "How does that feel?" he asked Link.

"Better than when I first tried it out," the apprentice admitted. Lavastar purred.

"Wonderful. Let's see you stalk."

Link nodded and slowly eased one of his forepaws out from under his body. He tried to call back memories from the previous day, an image of Lavastar hunting the hyrax. He recalled how fluid her movements had been, almost as if she had been a dark ginger wave, a red-brown breeze sailing across the treetops. Closing his eyes, he tried to place that smooth, feline grace into his own body, forcing it past the stabs of cramping pain that made his legs jerky. _You're a cat,_ he told himself. _Move like one._ The words repeated through his brain in an endless mantra, until finally the sound of them flooding his thoughts until they drowned out all others—including those of the pain in his muscles. His eyes opened slowly, first as tiny slits, then halfway...when he opened them fully, the young tom could see that he was halfway towards Lavastar.

"Nicely done so far," the she-cat meowed encouragingly. "Mind your form, though."

Form? Link tried to regain an awareness of where he was placing his legs. To his chagrin he realized that his elbows were pressed up against his belly again. His hind legs were splayed somewhat awkwardly. Taking a deep breath, Link moved himself back into the posture Craterfire had started him in, and tried again. This time, though, he thought more and more about where his legs were. Extend foreleg, pull body closer—other foreleg up, extend—raise first foreleg, tuck outside body—rest paw, pull body closer...Though his form remained relatively the same, his movements were horribly jerky and his body wobbled clumsily with every step. It was too much to think about both at the same time—would he ever be able to stalk with both perfect form _and_ feline grace?

"Considering that was your first time stalking anything, I'd say you did remarkably well," Lavastar commented when he reached her side. Link sighed. "Oh, don't be so hard on yourself, Link. You're still learning. I promise you that by the end of the day today, you'll be ready to go after prey!"

"You'll have to be," Blazingpaw teased, prowling towards him; Link found himself watching the muscles in her legs very closely, "if you want to eat tonight!" She wrinkled her nose, her eyes glittering with mischief. The tabby tom swiped a paw at her face, knocking her to the side.

"She's right, you know," Lavastar murmured. "Unless I see reason not to, you start living by the apprentices' rules today. That means no eating until you've hunted to feed the Clan." A small shiver passed down Link's spine at the thought. If he botched today's hunt, that meant he wouldn't get the chance to eat until tomorrow...and he was even hungry _now_. Perhaps being an apprentice wasn't going to be as easy as he'd thought.

"You had a little trouble holding your form together at the beginning," Lavastar continued. "Although you were moving rather smoothly. I think perhaps the best thing for you to do is to continue practicing stalking while maintaining your posture—fluidity of movement will come to you the more comfortable you are." She flicked her tail. "Back to where you started, and keep coming at me. Blazingpaw, why don't you keep pace with him so he can see how it's done?"

Together, the two young apprentices stalked forward, again and again. Around the twentieth time, Link realized that he was beginning to get a feel for the motions of the hunter's crouch. As the movements of his legs became more and more familiar to him, the golden tabby found he could think less about them and more about the grace he had seen in other cats. A few times, Lavastar and Craterfire both warned him to pay more attention to his form; but after a while, he found they reminded him about it less and less. Now he was really starting to feel coordinated. He pictured Lavastar's hunt of the hyrax in his mind, trying to make his paws glide as effortlessly over the sand as her had.

"I think that's enough for the moment," the ginger cat meowed when they two apprentices had done nearly thirty repetitions of the stalking movements. "Now let's do a little bit of pouncing exercises." She flicked her tail towards a stone not far behind her. "Link, stalk that rock, then pounce on it and bring it back to me."

Link nodded, then dropped down into his crouch again. He crept past his mentor, his paws making no sound on the sandy floor of the Canyon. He was perhaps the length of his own tail (which was shorter than his mentor's) away from the stone when he made the decision to pounce. The tabby tom gathered his legs under his body and sprang into the air, landing with his front paws on the rock. Blazingpaw cheered. He picked the rock up in his jaws, then padded back to Lavastar and set it down in front of her. The ginger queen nodded.

"Good, you've got a knack for pouncing," she praised. A forepaw lashed out and swept the stone into the air. Lavastar lashed her tail and batted it away. "Again, and this time don't jump so high. If this rock had been a pika, it would have seen you flying through the air towards it and been in its burrow in a heartbeat."

Feeling a little foolish, the golden apprentice began to prowl again. Perhaps his enthusiastic leap _had_ been a bit much. He decided not to bring his legs so far under himself this time; maybe that would keep him from shooting so high into the air. When he neared the stone a second time, the tom pulled his paws just fractionally closer to his body and sprang. Unfortunately, "fractionally closer" didn't seem to be close enough, for he found himself plunging nose-first into the sands instead of paws-first towards the rock. Blazingpaw squealed with laughter.

"I'm going to pretend you were just making mischief with that one," Lavastar told him. "Come back and try again, and this time don't be afraid to leap for your prey."

Link sat up, shaking the sand from his pelt irritably. He glowered at the stone briefly before trotting back to where Lavastar sat. "Now that you've hit both extremes," she murmured in his ear, "the middle will be that much easier to find. I think you'll get it right this time. See if I'm wrong."

Nodding, the tomcat started his prowl again. As he stalked, he thought about what Lavastar had said. The middle...finding the middle...He frowned thoughtfully. On his first pounce, he'd pulled his legs all the way under his body. On the second, he'd barely brought them under his head. Somewhere in the middle would be his chest. A tail-length away from the stone, Link paused, eye narrowing in thought. He wanted to leap straight across the floor of the gorge, keeping as low to the sand as possible—the last thing he wanted was for his quarry to see him coming. He brought his forepaws under his chest, pulling his hindpaws forward to meet them. His eyes snapped open, and his hindlegs thrust out from under him, pushing him over the ground in a swift, straight line. His front paws landed on the stone, forcing it down beneath the sand. It took him a minute to uncover it, and once he did, he gripped it between his teeth and presented it to Lavastar.

"Well done," the she-cat purred, pressing her muzzle against the top of his head.

**

* * *

**

By midafternoon, Lavastar and Craterfire led their apprentices out of the Canyon. Link felt as though his paws were buzzing with wild, limitless energy. The soreness and aches of his muscles were long since forgotten in the thrill of learning how to stalk and bring down his prey. In the past few hours alone, he'd learned how to prowl, pounce, and even deliver the killing bite. Lavastar seemed incredibly pleased by his progress, and even Craterfire had complemented him. They were going now to put the skills they had practiced to the test.

Link was going to hunt for the very first time.

Craterfire and Blazingpaw peeled off near the training hollow, heading down the narrow path that led to the Death Mountain Trail. Lavastar and her apprentice stayed atop the ridge. The dark orange cat settled down near the edge of the ridge. "All right, Link," she mewed, waving her tail. "Go off and see what you can do."

Link froze, uncertain. Did Lavastar really think he was capable to hunting solo already? Apparently, for the she-cat was grooming herself lazily in the sunlight. Swallowing his nervousness, the young tom nodded and set off in search of the smell of prey.

Almost instantly, he picked up a familiar grassy scent. He opened his mouth, drawing the air over his scent glands curiously, and was excited when he recognized the smell as pika. It wasn't long before he spotted the rodent, nibbling at a tuft of grass inside the training hollow. Pressing himself as close to the ground as he could, the young tom stalked nearer to his prey. He crept as close as he dared, then thrust out with his hind legs to send himself flying towards the pika. The mouse-like creature turned and saw him flying towards it. Link knew he had overshot, but it was not without good reason; the pika started to run away from him. When his paws came down again, they came down not where the pika _had been_, but where it _would be._

While they had been practicing, Lavastar had informed him that MountainClan cats were notorious for their pounces. There was very little cover in their territory, so much of their prey had to be brought down with flying leaps made from further off than other Clans'. She had spent a good long while, drilling him on how to jump a great distance while keeping himself low to the ground. Also included in the lesson was a basic rundown of how to gauge where prey would run. Lavastar had warned him that sometimes a cat's intended kill would look up just as they pounced, so it was important to know how to extend a jump, and how to bring it up short.

Link kept all of this in mind during his flight through the air, but it came to no avail. He miscalculated his prey's running speed. His paws came down just ahead of the pika, sending a small wave of sand up around them. He felt the little rodent scuttle over his paws, and he flailed a forepaw after it desperately. His wild thrusts overbalanced him, and the young tomcat fell flat on his face on the ground. He looked up just in time to see the pika vanish into a crack in a rock. With a frustrated hiss, Link slammed a paw in the sand, his ears flat. He'd been close, but not close enough. Hauling himself to his feet, the golden cat shook sand from his pelt and continued on his way. Perhaps he could come back later and try for that same pika again.

His paws led him along the ridge, in a direction that he and Lavastar had not traveled the previous day. He could hear the sound of water ahead and decided to try his luck there. Ears pricked up eagerly, Link padded forward in a kind of half-crouch; that way, he could easily drop all the way down if he spotted something worth stalking. Something told him that prey would likely congregate near a water source. His suspicions were confirmed by the scent of another pika coming towards him from the direction of the stream. He fell into his stalking position without much effort and prowled forward.

The pika was crouched at the edge of the stream, pressing its nose into a clump of grass. A small pile of severed blades of the stuff lay beside it. Link couldn't help a glow of encouragement. His prey was obviously distracted by gathering grass stems for its winter nest. He slipped even closer, eyes narrowed in concentration. When the time was right, he pounced, pushing off with his hindpaws to send his lean body hurtling through the air towards his prey. The pika looked up in time to see his paws slam into its back.

The feeling of prey squirming beneath his paws was strangely empowering. The young tabby found himself intoxicated by the rush it brought on. His pulse pounded in his ears. The pika was his! He'd actually caught something! Grinning in triumph, he bent down and snapped its neck delicately with his teeth. The crunch of bone made him flinch, but the satisfaction of killing his own prey pushed aside his queasiness. The warm smell of it filled his nose, and for a heartbeat, he considered devouring it then and there. Lavastar was pretty far away; there was no way she would know what he had done. Link frowned as he pulled his mouth back from his catch. As strong as his hunger was, the magnetism of his moral compass was stronger. It would be wrong to eat the pika, especially after Lavastar had explicitly told him that he was now following the "Clan must be fed first" rule. Besides, if he didn't show her he had caught it, she would think he was a total failure at hunting. Tail high, Link lifted the pika into his jaws and carried it back to where Lavastar waited.

When he reached the ridge, the ginger she-cat was nowhere to be seen; only her scent and the impression she'd left in the sand remained. Feeling a little disappointed, Link set his pika down in the small hollow in the ground and brushed some sand over it. Perhaps she had gone out hunting on her own, or had left to see how Craterfire and his apprentice were faring. Either way, she wasn't there. The young tabby tom padded back in the direction he'd come, wondering where else he could search for prey.

As he walked, Link was suddenly struck by the feeling that he was being watched. He froze in his tracks, the fur on the back of his neck bristling warily. His heart began beating faster. Just as he was preparing to look around for his mysterious watcher, the feeling left him. He scented the air nervously, but found nothing save the smell of the mountain. The tom's stomach twisted uncomfortably as he mewed, "I wonder what that was all about."

After licking his ruffled fur smooth, the young cat returned to his search. He soon forgot his disconcerting feelings and filled his mind instead with the thought of bringing down more prey. He wanted to see the look in Lavastar's eyes when he showed her his final pile of prey—would it be amazement? pride? confirmation? It wasn't long before he encountered another scent trail, and set to work tracking down his next catch.

**

* * *

**

By the time the sun set, Link had not caught nearly as much prey as he'd thought he would. In addition to the pika, he had managed to snare two small mice in the entire afternoon. There had almost been a bird added to that total, but the young tom hadn't followed through with his capture of it; he had crouched to pounce, but stopped when he realized that the bird was flying over a gorge in the rock. Rather than flinging himself over the gap after it—and risking the fall—the apprentice had let the bird go. After his loss of the bird, he had gone after a surprisingly large number of other animals...but all of his hunts, save two, had ended in failure.

Toting his mice by the tails, Link padded tenderly back to the ridge where Lavastar had sat earlier in the day. His paws were aching fiercely now after an afternoon of leaping and pouncing on sun-heated rock. He was relieved to see his mentor sitting atop the ridge, his pika at her feet. She turned at his approach, her green eyes warm. "I was wondering when you'd show up," she meowed. "You had a good hunt, didn't you?"

"I only caught these two, and that pika," he told her sullenly.

"On your first day out?" Lavastar gave him a lick behind the ears. "Link, you can't expect yourself to be a master hunter from Day One. It takes time to perfect these skills. So what if you missed more times than you caught? It's all part of the learning process."

"I guess so," the tom mewed, feeling heartened by her words.

"And on the plus side, it means you'll get to eat tonight!" Despite his sore pads, Link did a small caper of glee. Lavastar let out an amused _mrrow_. "I knew that would make you happy. Craterfire and Blazingpaw should be coming fairly soon, and the four of us will head back to camp together."

Link nodded and settled down beside her to wait. He felt her tail curling behind him, wrapping around his haunches, and he leaned in closer. He had to admit, sitting next to the muscular she-cat made him feel very safe and secure. Lavastar's ginger flanks were rumbling like distant thunder, and it wasn't long before the golden apprentice beside her felt a purr of his own start to build. Behind them, the sun was going down, setting the land aflame with red light. Looking down, Link noticed that he could see their shadows on the floor of the gorge beneath them, outlined in crimson. It was an image that would stay with him forever, for reasons he would never fully understand.

Craterfire and Blazingpaw appeared on the opposite side of the canyon not long after that. Link was a little disappointed to see how laden they were with fresh-killed prey—clearly, Blazingpaw knew how to hunt. Craterfire waved his tail in greeting to the other two cats before he and his apprentice started down the narrow trail. Lavastar rose to her paws, stretching and yawning. "Do you think you can manage to carry all of your kills, Link?" she asked.

"I don't see why not." The golden tabby pushed them together with his paws, then opened his mouth as wide as he could. It took a few minutes of finagling before he managed to lift all three rodents into his mouth; by that time, the others had reached the ridge where he and Lavastar stood.

Blazingpaw's eyes were wide with admiration, and she dropped the three pikas and bird that she was carrying. "I never caught that much when I was just starting," she mewed. Link allowed himself a proud purr. Frankly, he'd been worried that she would have flaunted her superior hunting skills. But if his catches were good enough to impress her...Lavastar flicked her tail, and the golden she-cat barely had enough time to grab all of her prey again before heading back for camp.

As the ground of four left the Canyon, they came across a group of warriors. Link picked out Brownpaw's familiar pelt, but she seemed to be the only apprentice there. At the head of the group was a dark brown tabby queen with rough-looking stripes. Lavastar dipped her head in greeting. "How was your patrol, Raggedstripe?" she asked.

"We picked up a rogue scent going into the crater tunnel," Raggedstripe replied. "I don't know how a cat could stand walking within ten foxlengths of that place, much less walk _into_ it." She shrugged. "But who knows—if the cat was mousebrained enough to go into the crater, they're probably touching noses with their ancestors by now."

Lavastar nodded. "I don't see anything to worry about, but run it by Wolfosclaw and see what he says," she meowed. Raggedstripe nodded, and she and the rest of her patrol padded into the camp. Lavastar led the way after them. Once inside, she turned to her apprentice. "Why don't you take that fresh-kill to the elders?" Link nodded, padding towards the hollowed-out log that Blazingpaw had informed him earlier was the elders' den.

No sooner had he set foot inside the log than a cracked voice yowled, "Yaah! Rogue attack!"

"Oh, do calm yourself down, Cloudedeyes," a deep voice rebuked the first. "Think for a heartbeat, would you? If rogues had overtaken the camp, don't you think some cat would be sounding the alarm? Besides, it's probably just that new apprentice."

"Pfft," hissed a third voice. "If I were running MountainClan, we wouldn't be taking in any stray rogue who wanted a den to sleep in."

Link set down his prey. "I _am _that new apprentice," he mewed, speaking to the deeper voice. It sounded to be the friendliest of them, and hence the one he wanted to talk to. "And I brought food for you all."

The deeper of the three voices broke into a rusty-sounding purr. "Wonderful. Come, don't be shy."

Gripping the prey in his mouth again, Link padded further down the log until he came across the nests of three cats. In one was a large, golden tom with ginger stripes. Though bony now, the young apprentice could tell that once this cat had been a fearsome warrior. In another sat a sandy-colored queen with one ear completely shorn off. Her face was twisted into a scowl. In the third, a gray-and-black tabby was curled. She kept looking around with her blind, cloudy eyes. Link set down the prey.

"Thank you very much, young warrior," the golden tom purred. "I'm Dragonheart. This is Tornear and Cloudedeyes. I can't say as that I recall your name, however."

"It's Link," the young can answered. Dragonheart nodded slowly and sagely. Tornear scoffed.

"Why didn't you take an apprentice name?" she demanded roughly. "Too good for Clan traditions, are you?" As Link opened his mouth to defend himself, she raised her tail to cut him off. "I'm keeping my eyes on you. I suggest you memorize the warrior code frontwards and back." Without another word, she reached out with a paw and snagged the pika from the top of the pile. Link turned to Dragonheart hopelessly.

"Oh, lighten up, you crabby old furball," the ancient tomcat wheezed, flicking his whiskers at her. "I'm sure he'll make a fine warrior, apprentice name or not." He pushed himself up creakily and grabbed one of the remaining mice. A few shuffling steps led him to Cloudedeyes's nest, where he dropped the mouse at her paws. As he made his way back to his own nest, Link padded beside him, offering his shoulder for support. "Thank you. You see, Tornear? He'll do fine."

"Hmpf." Tornear, her muzzle covered in pika blood, rolled her eyes. Dragonheart winked at the young tom.

"Don't worry too much about her," he whispered. "She hates every cat—even me. Don't pay her any mind." Link nodded, grateful for the golden tom's friendly nature. He had the feeling that as long as Dragonheart was there, caring for the elders wouldn't be such a daunting task. The old cat's eyes twinkled. "Well, now that we're taken care of, you can run along and grab some fresh-kill of your own. Maybe eat with all your friends."

The idea sounded exciting to Link, and the young tomcat gave the three elders a respectful nod before he left their den. Outside, Blazingpaw was waiting for him with a pika in her jaws. When the golden tabby tom bit into its soft meat, he realized that it tasted far sweeter tonight than it had the day before. Perhaps it was because he knew that this time, he had worked to earn this meal.


	6. Chapter 4

By the next morning, some of the stiffness had faded from Link's muscles, although his paws still throbbed fiercely. Clearly another visit to Brushpaw would be in order before setting out, although this time the golden tabby was ready to take himself to see the medicine cat's apprentice. He was much more willing to leave his nest today than the previous day, although something still held him back. He heard Lavastar meowing his name at the entrance of the den and rose from his nest with some hesitance. Beside him, Blazingpaw was also stirring. The golden tabby she-cat yawned widely, showing every one of her sharp, white teeth to her denmate. "What're you going to be doing today?" she asked mildly.

"Lavastar told me last night that she wants to get me started on fighting practice," Link replied in a low mew. His aching paws weren't the only reason he didn't want to leave the den this morning. Blazingpaw seemed to sense this, and she rubbed her head consolingly against his shoulder.

"What's scaring you more—her size, or the fact that you've never fought anything before in your life?" Link felt the fur on his shoulders stiffen at her words. Never fought anything in his life? If only she knew! Swallowing a bitter retort, the young tabby gave himself a hasty wash before bounding up the short tunnel to meet his mentor. After a quick stop into Sagewhisker's den, the pair trotted back out into the growing daylight.

The sun had just cleared the edge of the horizon, and was starting to shed some of its light on Hyrule. As Link padded behind Lavastar out of the camp, he couldn't shake a strange feeling of unease. The air seemed to be pushing down heavily on him, smothering him. As if the weight of it had already crushed the birds and insects, the world was eerily silent. The two cats' paws kicked up small, dry clouds of dust as they struck the ground. Glancing to the right as they passed the Death Mountain Trail, Link noticed how unusually vivid the sunrise looked; it could have passed for a sun_set_, with all the brilliant, fiery reds and yellows it held.

"You're quiet this morning, Link," Lavastar meowed, looking over her shoulder at her apprentice. The young tom jumped, startled by the sound of her voice, which seemed to echo through the still air.

"I-I'm fine," he stuttered. The ginger queen's eyes softened.

"There's nothing to be nervous about," she assured him. "Our practice today will follow the no-claws rule." Link sighed, though he wasn't sure if it was with relief, and nodded. Lavastar curled her tail around his neck for a moment, just as she had when they had walked down the Lightning Path, offering him some comfort.

By the time they reached the training hollow, the sun had decidedly risen into the sky. It sat above the Kokiri Forest, surrounded by a spreading halo of gold that touched the undersides of nearby clouds ever so gently. The sky around it was a beautiful pale blue, with only a few stars still visible in the dark west. Link paused for a heartbeat at the edge of the ridge, gazing down at the sleepy Kakariko. Impa was down there. So was Anju, the Cuckoo lady who was allergic to her own animals. And the busy carpenters who were working away at what would be in a few years a new shooting gallery. All of them were people who knew him, knew his name...but they were also people who he could not speak to now. Link sighed. As demanding as it had been sometimes, he couldn't help missing his old life a little.

_My old life,_ he thought, somewhat sadly. _That's what it is now. And the Three—or should I say, StarClan—only knows how long it will take for me to be able to set it aside and concentrate on my new life._ He found a strange comfort in the phrase "set it aside", perhaps because something set aside can always be picked up again. He flicked his tail towards the sleepy village, as if brushing it away for the time being. Then, with a deep breath, the young tom turned away from the ridge and padded after his mentor. This was his life now; this was what he should be giving his focus to. Lavastar was waiting in the shade of the rocks surrounding the training hollow, her emerald gaze curious. But, rather than question his pause, she lowered herself into a crouch at one end of the hollow.

"We'll start off easy," she explained. "You attack, I defend. I want to see what you're capable of doing before I start offering suggestions." Her ears flattened against her skull, and she gave a goading hiss. "Show me your best!"

Link hesitated, frowning in thought. Though he hated to think of his mentor as a monster, he had to admit: It was what he was most accustomed to fighting. He watched the roll of her muscles as she shifted from paw to paw eagerly. The scent of smoke in the air and the bright burn of her pelt made him think of the battles he had fought on this mountain. The question stood: Would Lavastar move steadily and powerfully like the King Dodongo, or in a sinuous twist of pure muscle like Volvagia? There was only one way to find out, and that was to make her move.

Briefly, the young tom considered how strange it would be—thinking of his opponent as a monster he had once fought on two legs and with a sword. He couldn't help feeling a little nervous, as if someone had asked him, as a Twoleg, to fight a dangerous beast on all fours with nothing but his fingernails and teeth. That would be essentially what he was doing now; the only real difference was that Lavastar wouldn't really be fighting back. Still, her size compared to his was rather intimidating, and the she-cat was mountain-tough. It wouldn't be a fair fight by anyone's standards, but Lavastar had said that she wouldn't be using her—

"Before time erodes the mountain out from under our paws, Link!" Lavastar meowed impatiently, lashing her tail from side to side. Link twitched, realizing shamefully that he had been standing in silent thought for...probably long enough that he had made things awkward.

_Right—better get a move on,_ he thought. He dropped down into the hunter's crouch he had learned the previous day and began to stalk toward her, wobbling slightly on his paws. The rusty-orange queen tensed expectantly, her eyes narrowing to green slits. Link paused again, although this time it was only to gather his long legs under his body. He planned to spring at his defensive mentor; if that didn't make her move, nothing would. Barely a tail-length away, he lunged, stretching his toes wide until he felt his claws slide from their sheathes. Lavastar let out a hiss.

"If you want to use your claws, then I can too!" she spat, loosing them from their sheathes in a swift flick of motion. Link felt an icicle of fear stab into his heart—her claws were _huge!_ He curled his paws together instantly, gritting his fangs in a grimace of fear. It was bad enough he would have to spar with a cat as big as Lavastar, but adding claws to the mix seemed infinitely worse. To his relief, the second his claws vanished, hers did, too.

Lavastar watched his flight with careful, calculating eyes; then, where he was barely inches away from making contact, she surged upwards, soaring over his head. As they passed in the air, the young tabby tried to aim a swipe at her flank, but wound up overbalancing himself. He landed on his back in the sand, his breath jerked out of him with a sudden choking sound. Lavastar touched down gracefully a few feet away, a taunting light in her eyes. "You move too slowly!" she told him. "If you're going to leap at me, put some power behind it. You've got wonderfully long legs—use them!"

The golden tom leapt to his paws, shaking out his pelt angrily. Honestly, he wasn't sure if he _could_ move any faster. Perhaps pouncing wasn't the wisest choice; a full-on assault might work better. When he had been a Hylian, Link had been a master of all-out, melee-style fighting, a talent he had developed while fighting numerous stun-and-stab battles. Once his opponent was down, the boy had rushed forward with drawn sword and slashed wildly. It was a reckless move, one that Navi had scolded him endlessly for. The thought of the fairy, wherever she was now, brought on a quick jolt of bittersweet pain, and for a heartbeat, Link was frozen. He shook the memories away roughly; his attention needed to be on his mentor for now.

Holding his claws in their sheathes as he ran into the fight was difficult; some buried instinct wanted them out, and instinct had always been challenging for him to override. Link pounded the sandy ground with his paws, racing to meet Lavastar head-on. The she-cat's powerful muscles twitched, bulging as they tensed. The golden tabby hurled himself towards her, then began swiping with his paws wildly. About one in every five strikes made contact; the other four were shoved aside with one of the ginger queen's large, deft paws. "Good! Good!" she growled happily. "Careful now—you're leaving yourself wide open, Link! Don't stretch up so tall—better, better, _yes!_"

Link lashed his tail, his eyes flicking from Lavastar's paws to his own. He had wanted to just fight blindly, to let chance guide his attacks, but Lavastar was coaching him to think before he struck. It was more difficult than he'd thought—keeping tabs on his mentor's moves while thinking about launching his own. But inside that challenge was a kind of hidden pleasure. Link realized that he _liked_ the racing thoughts the fight was giving him. He liked the challenge of keeping track of every blow and swipe. It excited him, and that excitement gave him a fierce energy that set his body ablaze with strength.

Dimly, he realized that as their scuffle progressed, the she-cat was starting to _fight back._ Her counter-thrusts had move force behind them than before, often connecting with so much power that the tabby tomcat would struggle for balance. Her assaults were driving him back, towards the towering stones; she was trying to corner him like a pika. Link flattened his ears and gathered himself to spring. He saw Lavastar bring her legs under her body as well, and knew he would have to be quick. He feinted forwards, then flung his lean body to the side after a second's hesitation. His luck held; Lavastar sprang in the direction of the rocks at the precise moment when he balked, and Link twisted himself around to leap again. In a flash of striped gold, he was on her back with his paws evenly spaced along her body. The dark ginger cat purred softly.

"Well done," she rumbled, her voice full of pride. Link felt a glow of the same begin to burn in his heart. He was panting for breath after the wild melee, and when he leapt down onto the sands again he stumbled for balance. Lavastar gave him a gentle lick behind the ears. "You have a very strong and reckless style of fighting, my young apprentice, and with training you will be able to use it safely and to its full potential. The way you fought just now—if you were fighting a kit, they would have been overwhelmed."

Link wasn't sure if he should take that as praise or an insult.

"A seasoned warrior, on the other paw..." Lavastar hesitated. "Rush me again," she commanded. Link was only too happy to obey. He darted forward, raising a paw for his opening strike. The massive she-cat watched his approach cooly, then flashed out with one of her mighty forepaws. She slapped her rough, gray pawpad against his pink with so much force that the golden tom was completely knocked off his feet. He rolled in the sand, unable to regain control of his gangly limbs. Lavastar stopped his tumbles by catching him when his belly was to the sky and pinning him down to the ground by his shoulders. "A seasoned warrior could easily catch you in your state of lowered guard and knock you halfway to the moon."

Ah! So he should have taken her previous statement as an insult.

Panting, Link listened as his mentor continued. "If you want to fight by rushing other cats and hoping for the best," she meowed, releasing him, "then you must learn how to keep your guard up—or at the very least learn to watch your opponent's every move carefully." Her eyes glinted. "It took a bit, but I think I got you to watch how I was moving. Now, the best way to get you tuned into your opponent is for you to actually _have_ one. We'll reverse the roles; I'll attack, you defend."

Link flinched fearfully; he couldn't help it. He'd had his paws full enough when his mentor had been holding herself back! How could he possibly be expected to survive now that she was coming at him with intent to attack? Lavastar didn't miss his anxiety. "I've never hurt an apprentice," she told him simply. "If you need me to stop, just say so. This is only your first day, after all." The golden tom relaxed, only to stiffen in fear again as she continued, "Besides, it'll be another few moons at the least before I _really_ start training you for battle."

Licking his whiskers nervously, Link settled himself into a crouch similar to the one Lavastar had started their training in. His blue eyes narrowed in concentration as his mentor began prowling towards him. She moved so silently and smoothly across the sands, like a brilliant autumn leaf caught in a breeze; the young tom was both awed and jealous of the fluidity with which she stalked. _Volvagia,_ Link decided, thinking back to the beginning of training.

When they were barely a foot apart, Lavastar wrinkled her nose in a playful snarl. "Now let's see how you handle a rushing fighter," she hissed, and bounded forward. Link pressed his body against the sand warily, tensing his forelegs in preparation.

_She's not Volvagia anymore,_ he thought. The King Dodongo had definitely been more of a melee fighter than the Fire Temple's guardian. In fact, the mere sight of the dark ginger cat loping across the ground brought back memories of watching the armored lizard rolling like a runaway boulder. There was that same unnerving strength of purpose to both their movements. The golden tabby clenched his fangs.

Lavastar's first strike came from above. Her paw shot up, then swung down in a swift, decisive blur. Link watched her foot fall, and raised a paw of his own to counter it. A rust-red movement flickered out of the corner of his eye; he glanced back at it and without even thinking his other forepaw shot out to knock the second, oncoming strike aside. His reflex cost him dearly; the young cat staggered awkwardly on his hindpaws before falling face-first into the warm sand. He heard his mentor give an amused _mrrow._

"Good effort," she praised. "But you should have returned your attention to my first swipe. Do you realize now that if I had truly moved to hit you with both my forepaws at the same time, I would have stumbled just as you did?"

"You...you must have put your first paw down before you struck with the second," mewed Link as he pushed himself up. _It would have to be true,_ he thought. _I can't remember ever making contact with her first paw._ He looked to Lavastar, who nodded in confirmation. "So I should have assumed you would pull the first blow in order to deliver the second."

"Learn to stay ahead of your opponent," the she-cat advised him. "We'll work on that for a bit longer before moving on to anything else." She paused briefly. "I won't be able to teach you everything today, but I plan to cover more than just one topic. How are you holding up so far?"

"I'm fine," he replied, trying to keep his breathing even. The fitter he appeared, the more he could learn. And, he reasoned, since there was no telling just _when_ he would be called on to protect the Clans from the danger they faced, the more he learned, the better off he would be.

Lavastar nodded. "All right, crouch down again and we'll go at it," she ordered. The golden tom eased himself back into his crouch, bracing himself for his mentor's next attack. He was still panting hard; the day was far warmer than any other he had felt on the mountain. Was it just his fur? Lavastar lunged in reverse, opening the gap between the two of them once more, then shot forwards.

Link tracked her movements closely, intent on avoiding his previous mistake. He ducked away from one of her swipes, his gaze shifting between her two forepaws warily. Her opening attack brushed one of his ears lightly—"If I were truly an enemy warrior, your ear would be in my claws right now," Lavastar warned him. The tabby tom jerked his head in the opposite direction, flattening his other ear to avoid another hit, then raised a forepaw to fend off his mentor's oncoming blow. He heard her hiss in satisfaction, but kept himself from reveling in it. If he knew Lavastar, she was probably miles ahead of him in terms of battle plan.

The queen struck out again, this time jabbing a paw right at his nose. Link batted her foot away sharply, feeling the roughness of her pad rub against the backside of his paw. He noticed that the leg she had just raised to strike him was held at bay—and her other leg was firmly planted, too far back to strike! Was this what she had meant when she had said he was leaving himself wide open? Without hesitating, the tabby cat lunged towards his mentor, and managed to swat the side of her neck twice before she bowled him over.

"Good! Not exactly keeping in with your defensive training, but definitely something praiseworthy," Lavastar purred. "I was wondering if you'd notice how unguarded my stance was. Nice to know you're starting to pay attention!" Her eyes narrowed. "But try keeping _this _under watch!"

She stepped back, only to surge ahead once more, flailing her paws with startling accuracy and speed at her apprentice. Link blocked her blows as best he could, but there were so many of them that he couldn't possibly defend against _all _of them. He wondered if this was what his initial assault looked like from her perspective. Lavastar moved with the certainty and speed of a well-practiced warrior, but Link was no stranger to combat himself. The young tom fought back with all his might, returning his mentor's attacks with a few of his own. Dark ginger crossed over banded gold as their forelegs wove between each other.

Before long, Link found himself standing on his hind paws, boxing fiercely with Lavastar, who was down in a half-crouch. Though the sun glared hotly down on the both of them, neither cat would submit. They were locked in a mock-battle that was quickly escalating into a real fight...well, for Link, at least. He felt his inhibitions slide out from under him, leaving him with only one desire: victory. His claws still firmly sheathed, he launched an all-out assault on his mentor. Lavastar let him have his fun before swatting him aside with a strong paw.

"All right, that's enough of that," she meowed sternly. Link panted for breath, unable to push himself up from his position on his side. "You completely threw your defense by the wayside at the end, which is why I stopped you. I was hoping you would be able to keep your excitement under control better than that, but it _is_ your first day training for fighting." She sighed, shaking her head slowly. "I think we've done enough for today. Off you go—hunt. I expect to see you back at camp by sunset, unless you've hunted to feed the queens in the nursery before then."

The young tom pushed himself back onto his feet slowly. It was almost noon—sunhigh, he remembered the cats calling it. It certainly made more sense to say that; the sun was almost directly overhead, a fiery orb that baked the land below without remorse. It seemed strange to him that today would be so hot, and that he would find that heat so oppressive. Link shook the sand from his fur, and the unease from his mind. Lavastar's words rang through his mind as he trotted off in search of prey. Some other cat would be feeding the elders, then?

How many queens were there—and how many kits? He dimly recalled seeing a litter of three playing in the camp last evening, but they didn't look old enough to eat meat yet. And Blazingpaw had mentioned that two other kits were ready to be apprenticed. That made for two mothers, and two kittens, all four of which he was responsible for feeding today. Nodding confidently to himself, Link began his search for prey in earnest.

**

* * *

**

A few hours later, the young golden tabby padded out from the shelter of a Fairygrove, a young hyrax clamped in his jaws. It had been a rather rough day of hunting; not much prey was out to be caught. He'd been lucky to find the hyrax—and even luckier to catch it. It had been grazing beside its mother and littermate when Link had appeared. The older hyrax had heard his approach, and had run for cover, driving her nearest offspring with her. The remaining youngster was left alone, and it wasn't long before it had found its way under the hunter's paws. Link couldn't help giving his head a proud tilt as he stepped out into the open—

—only to draw it closer to his body as a drop of cold water landed sharply on his nose.

Startled, Link set down his catch and looked to the sky. His jaw dropped open in shock. Dark clouds, each a bruised purple-gray color, were massed around the whole of the sky, from horizon to horizon. They were heavy, bloated with rain, and their bulk seemed to press the air around the cat even harder. A sharp gust of chilly wind parted his fur as it rushed past him. Turning his gaze to the dry, cracked ground below him, Link watched as another drop of water pelted the earth, sending up a small cloud of dust as it impacted. Another drop fell, then another, and another...It wasn't long before the rain was pouring down in thick sheets. The young tom frowned worriedly, then bent down to pick up his prey again. He made sure he had a secure grip on the hyrax's body before starting across the high plateau.

His search for prey had led him across Death Mountain Trail, then up the side of the mountain, until he was fairly sure he was standing above Goron City. It would be a long climb down, and Link wasn't sure he could make it as safely as he wanted to. Briefly, he considered returning to the shelter of the Fairygrove and waiting the storm out. But that wouldn't work; Lavastar was expecting him back at camp, and he didn't want to worry her. Or worse—to have her come out and search for him, risking a fatal fall. He swallowed his hammering heart, which was racing in his throat like a pinned pika, and began to search for the trail he'd taken to get here. He found it quickly, then started his descent.

The rain rattled off the rocks hollowly, filling the young cat's ears with a steady murmur as he picked his way down the side of the mountain. He bared his claws and narrowed his eyes. Already the pounding rain had soaked through his pelt, and the stiff breezes that the cooling rain had stirred into life were chilling him to the bone. _The sooner I get off this stupid ridge, the sooner I can get back to camp,_ he thought stubbornly.

The going was rough. At one point, his paws slipped out from under him, sending him skidding down the trail at a frightening speed. Only by sinking his claws into a protruding root was Link able to check his wild slide. He had lain there—ears flat, eyes screwed almost shut—waiting to fall off the side of the trail and meet his end. But it never happened. The rain kept pelting him, and his hyrax only grew heavier. After a few minutes, he had gotten up the courage to pull himself upright again. Both he and his prey—because rather than yowl his fear and lose his catch, his grip had actually _tightened_—were covered in sticky, dark mud. By the time he had started to walk again, his paws were shaking with fear.

Near the end of the trail, the young tomcat slipped again, although this time it was out of sheer terror. The world around him had been illuminated by a sudden burst of light, and with it came a sound like the sky tearing in two. The white, powerful flash of light had startled him, but the terrifying ripping, crashing, rumbling sent him into panic. Link bolted down the path, for once not concerned with safety, only to have his feet thrown out from under him as he slipped on the slick mud. Again, he dug his fangs deeper into his prey, bent on bringing the young hyrax back to Lavastar. Fortunately, he was within ten feet of the end of the trail, and what remained was fairly straight. When the young tom came to a stop, he was underneath the spur of rock that hung over Goron City.

Shivering, both with cold and fear, Link heaved himself to his feet. He was achingly tired, more so than he could ever recall feeling in his life. The stone at his paws was bathed in a warm glow, a golden light that came from the Gorons' cave. Setting the hyrax down, the muddy cat gazed wistfully at the cavern. Even the rough-hewn rocks outside the cave looked gentle and soft in the sun-like glow. He could hear the murmur of voices—a sound that rose above the dull pounding of the rain around him—and the strange chomping, crunching sounds of rocks being pulverized by Goron jaws. Without his conscious though, his paws began moving him in the direction of the cave, towards the warmth and friendship within. Even if they didn't recognize him as Link, surely the gentle Gorons would clean him up and give him somewhere safe to sleep until the storm had passed.

Suddenly the sky was ripped in half again as another burst of light swallowed the mountain. Link bristled in shock as he saw the yellow glow from Goron City drown in the lightning's harsh flash. The soft edges of the rock outside the cave hardened once more. The golden tabby's legs went stiff with fear as he realized that in the rough stone he could see the faces of cats. Some of them glowered disapprovingly, while others seemed to be pleading reason with him. His heart leapt into his throat at the sight, which stayed in his mind even after the lightning's instantaneous flare had ended. He stumbled over his paws, snagging the body of the hyrax in his fangs before racing away from the cave. He was out in the rain before the thunder had finished its last rumble.

Tired, sore, hungry, and cold, Link trudged along the darkened path. He didn't need to see where he was going now; as a Hylian, he had taken the trail to Goron City many times. He flattened his ears and bowed his head against the driving rain. The hyrax in his jaws was almost unbearably heavy, but he refused to set it down. It was his catch, his proof to MountainClan that he could learn to be a warrior, even if he hadn't been born into the Clan. He couldn't give that up. Though the rain may batter him into the ground, though the thunder may paralyze him with fear, though—

What was that?

Tensing warily, Link pricked up his ears. Strange...He could have sworn that, above the insistent pounding of the raindrops and the wail of the wind, he had heard someone calling his name. He paused, stepping onto the wide open space that was the Death Mountain Trail. He gave his head a firm shake to try and rid his ears of the rain that had fallen into them, then listened again. Yes! Faded, but there! His head jerked wildly around, flailing the hyrax's body to and fro. He could see nothing in the darkness, but he was sure beyond a doubt that someone was calling out to him.

Lightning blasted the dark mountainside, and Link saw the silhouettes of three cats standing atop the high ridge on the opposite side of the trail. His heart leapt with joy at the sight of what he could only hope were his Clanmates. He heard an unmistakable yowl of sheer triumph and relief, and barely made out the shape of a cat bounding down the narrow path to join him. The young cat waited, filled with indescribable happiness, and he dropped his prey without thought. Finally, the shape neared, and in the low light, Link made out the face of Lavastar. The burly queen swept him close with a foreleg, her whole body rumbling with a purr that could make the thunder jealous. Link would have cried if his cat body had tears; instead, he pushed his face into his mentor's chest fur and let himself be rocked by the thunder inside of her.

"We've been looking everywhere for you," he heard her mew. "I was following you up until you caught the pika by the Longtunnel—then I ran into a patrol, and before long I wound up back at camp. By the time I was able to get back to watching your hunt, the rain had started up, and it washed away your scent." She pulled back, shaking her head in disbelief. "Oh, thank StarClan, Link—you're alive!" And she held him close again. "I thought you had fallen off the mountain, or had been swept away by a flooded stream!"

The young tom's weary body was filled with warmth, a warmth far more desirable and golden than that he had seen coming from Goron City. This was the warmth of love, of caring. Link sighed contentedly, unable to speak. He pressed close to Lavastar until he heard the approaching pawsteps of the other two cats of the search party. The she-cat released him and stepped back. In the flash of lightning, Link saw Craterfire gazing warmly at him, while Wolfosclaw offered him a rather grudging look of relief. "Let's get you back to camp, Link," the deputy grunted. "It wouldn't be right for you to come down with a cold in greenleaf."

"Great StarClan, is that _your _catch?" Craterfire meowed, prodding the hyrax curiously. Link nodded. "Impressive! Few apprentices can bring down a hyrax."

"It's a young one," the tabby murmured, feeling a little embarrassed. Craterfire twitched his whiskers.

"It's a hyrax," he reminded him. "I'll carry it back to camp. You look like you're asleep on your paws."

Link barely managed to clamp his fangs around a massive yawn. The search patrol gave a collective amused _mrrow._ Lavastar nudged her apprentice gently with a paw. "Come on, let's move," she ordered. "The sooner we get you back, the sooner you can rest." Link nodded and stumbled after her towards the camp trail. His paws felt numb on the ends of his legs, and he could barely walk a straight line; but with Lavastar beside him, he could go anywhere.

After that evening, Link would have trouble remembering whether the trip back to camp had seemed long or short. In fact, everything after his adventure on the rainy mountainside would seem incredibly surreal to him, and he would only be able to recall bits and pieces of it. He would remember seeing the eyes of the Clan, glinting from their dens, watching him return home. He would remember Sagewhisker telling him to lie down in her den, and hearing her tell his mentor that he would be perfectly fine. He would remember taking two bites of a mouse that Brushpaw gave him before falling asleep with his face in his fresh-kill.

But above all, he would remember that for the first time since he had joined MountainClan, he had truly felt as if he had belonged there.


	7. Chapter 5

"Now, Link—twist and leap back up!" Lavastar ordered in a commanding yowl. She jumped to her feet as the golden tabby tom staggered, his gangly forelegs twisted into immobile knots. Her ears flattened impatiently. "_Come on!_ Faster, faster! You can do _far_ better than that! Back up!"

Three days had passed since Link's solo hunting mission in the thunderstorm. Currently, he was out with Lavastar, running the jumping exercises she had promised him on their first day together. The ginger cat had led him to an area further down the same side of the mountain where the camp was, a place where spurs and crags jutted from the rock wall at unbelievable angles. The area where they were had no real name, but it was the place where all apprentices learned to spin and jump like warriors.

Link untangled his legs as best he could and gathered them under his body. As he moved them, his head shot up and his eyes sought the spur from which he had just leapt. It was fairly high up on the wall, but he had made the leap up to it earlier. Furrowing his brow in concentration, the tabby tom pushed his legs out from under himself and sprang towards the spur of stone. He sucked in his belly to narrowly avoid impaling himself on the point of it, and stretched his paws out as far as they would reach. They connected with the flat top of the rock, and Link barely managed to get his haunches around to grip the crag in time. Hissing under his breath, he clawed his way to the top and stood there, panting.

"Back down!" Lavastar barked, not giving her apprentice any longer than a few seconds to recover. "I want you to hit the crag to the side and bounce off of it! Use that momentum to shoot yourself onto the rock directly below the one you're on now!" She flicked her tail briskly to the left and down to indicate which spurs she meant. "Don't think too hard, just do it!"

"Ugh! Hitting that one rock is going to hurt!" Link complained under his breath, but he did as she commanded.

"I heard that, you know. Don't talk back to me, young warrior! Do you want to jump like a true MountainClan cat?"

Link let out a soft grunt as he launched himself into the air. His paws scrabbled on the side of the protruding rock, swiftly turning his body so that it pointed towards the ground. Moving quickly—for he knew he didn't have much time until gravity would start to unbalance him—the young tom ricocheted off the stone spur, flying towards the lower ledge. He seemed to have misjudged the force of his leap, however, for he soon found his paws skidding across the surface of the rock. As he struggled for purchase his claws screeched across the pale brown stone, marring its sandy face with a flurry of white hashmarks. Lavastar let out a sharp gasp of surprise below him, but the tabby pulled himself back to safety in the end.

"All right, Link?" the massive ginger queen asked. The apprentice nodded breathlessly to show that he was, in fact, safe. "Good. Let that be a lesson to you: Don't stop thinking about your leaps until your paws are on solid ground. You could have easily brought that one up short once you realized you were overshooting." She sighed. "Keep that in mind. I want you back on that original crag—the one right over your head. Figure out a way to get back up there again and go to it!"

Link froze, panting for breath. His blue gaze flickered from stone to stone anxiously. Reverse the jumps that had gotten him where he was now? No, too risky—he couldn't be sure he could rebound fast enough and with enough force to make it back to the top. Go back to the ground and leap back up again? Might work, seeing as he had done it before. The golden tom nodded and shot down to the ground again. Once he had landed, he whirled around and fired himself back up to the top once more. His landing was much better this go-round; his hindlegs came around fast enough that he was able to grip the rock securely with all four paws, and hence was spared the agonizing motions of clawing his way up. Lavastar let out a yowl of approval.

"Good thinking! Now turn to the other side. See that higher spur?" Link nodded. "Of course you do. I want you to leap for that one, but bounce off it and land back on the one where you are now. Got that? Go! _Go!_"

Without hesitation, Link whipped to the right and hurled himself at the knob of stone that hung about two lengths of his tail above him. He aimed all four paws at a small, protruding piece on the crag, hoping to use that as his pivot point. Unfortunately, once his feet struck stone, the hump broke off, crumbling off the side of the rock with a dry rumble. Link let out a startled caterwaul and flailed his paws for something else to hit. He still had his momentum—if he could just find another rock to bounce off of before it was too late...

Gravity gripped the tabby tom's body in its heavy, lead talons, pulling him down. Link snarled, although the light of fear was starting to flicker into life behind his dark blue eyes. His paws were reaching out for something—anything—to grasp, but the jagged spurs of rock were rushing past him, moving far too fast to grip. The wind whistled in his ears, drowning out the furious racing of his fearful heartbeat. Dimly, he heard Lavastar moving to intercept him, to catch him before he plummeted to the unforgiving ground below. He glanced over his shoulder, trying to see where she was. There—leaning over the edge of a spur to grab him. The young cat clamped his fangs together and struggled to bring his wildly thrashing feet under his own control again. _Lavastar won't let me fall,_ he told himself over and over again, praying to both the Goddesses and StarClan that it was true. His eyes squeezed shut, waiting for either the grip of his mentor's teeth or the shattering of his bones.

Four pricks of beautiful pain stabbed into the scruff of Link's neck, bringing his terrifying fall to a sudden, jerking halt.

"Don' be 'fraid," Lavastar muttered around a mouthful of fur. "Gotcha..."

Clenching his teeth around a delayed howl of fear, the young tom dared to open his eyes to slits. His haunches dangled below him; his tabby-striped tail swung pendulously over the rock-studded ground below. No blood or broken body marred the tawny soil. No crater of impact disrupted the fine, square pattern of cracks on its surface. (Although there had been recent rain, the sun seemed to shine a little brighter on Death Mountain.) Link's eyes slowly opened fully, and he stared in dumb shock at the ground nearly six feet below. He felt his shoulder rub the side of the rock roughly and looked up. Lavastar was straining back on her heels, although it was clear that she could manage the weight of her apprentice. The golden tabby brought his paws underneath himself quickly and helped her haul his body onto the ledge.

Once all four of his feet were safely on the rocky spur, Lavastar began to nose him gently, checking for injuries. "Great StarClan, Link, you scared me," she whispered. Link could hear how ragged her breathing was; it was clear she was just as worried as he had been. "I'm sorry, it was my fault. I should have let you rest a little more. Even a seasoned warrior's paws will slip when they're exhausted."

"It wasn't that," Link mewed. "It was _my_ fault, Lavastar. I tried to rebound off a piece of the rock that wasn't as sturdy as I thought it was. I should have looked a little more carefully before I leapt." He swallowed the heavy lump of terror rising at the back of his throat. "I'm fine—really."

Lavastar rested her muzzle on his head, and Link could hear her inhaling his scent. It seemed as though she were trying to reassure herself that he was still alive, that his body wasn't lying broken on the hard ground. He pushed his face into her chest, taking deep breaths to steady himself. Her scent, he realized, was starting to become comforting to him. Though he had barely known her more than a week, the dark ginger she-cat had become a strange mixture of mother and sister to him—both things he had never had, yet always wanted.

After a few moments, Lavastar pulled back. Her green eyes were soft. "Do you think you can continue training?" she asked. "I can understand if you want to head back to camp. A fall like that can be traumatic for a young apprentice, and forcing them to continue jumping can be counter-productive."

"I think I'll be okay," Link murmured. He gulped as he glanced over the edge of the crag, then squeezed his eyes shut and turned away from the drop. "Although...would it be all right if we started back closer to the bottom?"

"Of course." Lavastar clearly wanted to continue the training exercises, and was willing to make compromises. She turned back and leaped off the side of the spur. Link padded after her, hesitating at the edge. His eyes sought out adjacent rocks, and he jumped carefully from spur to spur to land beside her on solid ground. "All right, Link—make your way across those three crags there! Run, jump—whatever, just start on one end and work your way down!"

At least she was quick to move on after adversity! Link couldn't smother a grin as he darted back towards the rock wall. He bunched his legs under him and sprang into the air, landing easily atop the first of a line of three stone spurs. Stretching himself out, the young tabby raced down the line, pouncing from rock to rock as swiftly as he could. His legs were still trembling a little with nerves from his fall, but the gaps were small and his limbs were long. These were the rocks he had been twisting and turning on when they'd first come here at sunrise—the easiest part of his training!

"Down!" Link lunged off of the last rock in the line and landed neatly on the ground. "Now back up! The other way, and don't be shy about your speed this time!" With nothing more than a disbelieving pant, the golden tabby whipped around and sprang back onto the spur. He sped across the line of rocks. "Good! Now hit that rock up higher—yes, that one! Pivot and come back to the ground!"

Link obeyed, ricocheting off of the spur and shooting towards his mentor. He bared his fangs playfully as he stretched out his paws. It didn't take more than a heartbeat for Lavastar to realize that her apprentice was trying to launch a surprise attack on her, and she responded by splaying her paws to stop him. All four of her feet connected, catching Link and flinging him off to the side. The golden tom landed on his back in the dust, feeling as though he had been shoved aside like an annoying kitten. The dark ginger queen purred. "You've obviously got plenty of energy left," she meowed. "That's great. It means you'll be able to work your way back up to the top of the wall before sunset!" With a disbelieving yowl, the young tomcat heaved himself to his paws. "Come on! Back on those rocks, Link! Up, up!" The tabby hastened to obey. As he passed his mentor, she gave him a firm smack on the rear with her paw, as if to say _Try that again, and you'll be doing worse things than this tomorrow._

By the time the sun began to dip into the west, Link was thoroughly exhausted. He stood at the topmost spur of the wall, gazing down at the speck of rusty orange that was his Clan leader. His breath came in rapid, rough pants. His paws stung with rawness, and he felt as though his claws were frayed and worn down to tiny nubs. He felt none of the vertigo that the sight of the wall had first given him, even though he stood at its highest point. He felt none of the fear from his earlier fall. Nothing but a deep sense of pride and accomplishment fulled his tired body, making him warm from ears to tailtip. Lavastar began calling him down, saying it was time to return to the camp.

As he lifted a paw to obey, Link was suddenly struck by the feeling of eyes burning into his neck fur. He froze, clenching his teeth around a yowl of anxiety. Almost instantly, he was reminded of his first hunting expedition, and the feeling of being watched. Now, for the second time, he had that disconcerting sensation. His stomach twisted in knots. The fur on his shoulders and all along his spine began to rise. What was it—who? Hackles bristling stiffly, the tabby tom dropped into a half-crouch and whirled around. His white fangs flashed in the dying, bloody light of the sinking sun. His claws shot from their sheathes and gripped the rock beneath him with soft screeching sounds. He tensed, waiting for his watcher to come into view.

Lavastar yowled his name again, startling the young cat out of his paranoia. The feeling of eyes receded instantaneously, leaving him feeling foolish. Link sighed. "Whoever you are," he growled softly, "just leave me alone." He took a deep breath to smooth his ruffled fur and lunged towards the ground, springing lightly from rock to rock as he fell.

Once firmly on the ground, Link turned away from the rock wall and padded after his mentor, who was already heading back to camp. He pushed the disturbing incident away roughly, filling his mind instead with the lessons he had learned that day. A pika scrabbled across his path, and without thinking, the young tom's paw shot out and snared the creature. Lavastar gave an amused _mrrow._ "Just eat it now," she told him. "You're in no shape to hunt for any other cat, and I doubt there would even be enough time to send you out if you were." Eagerly, Link tucked into the rodent; he never once paused to think how hesitant he had been to eat raw prey in the beginning. That fear seemed long gone now, lost in the salty surge of life and mountain that filled his mouth.

**

* * *

**

The light of the setting sun couldn't seem to touch the sleek pelt of the white she-cat, for her fur glowed not with a flaming red, but with the blue of new-fallen snow. Her eyes were closed lightly; she gave one of her forepaws a few delicate licks before bringing it over an ear. She sat outside the bush that stood atop the apprentice's den, a silent, snowy angel, never shifting from her spot until Link padded up to her.

The tomcat swallowed, a little nervously. He'd been with MountainClan for a little over a week, but he hadn't spent much time with this she-cat. True, he'd seen her sleeping in the center of the den. Yes, he'd watched her enter and leave the camp with her mentor, a dark brown tabby called Dodongofang. Undoubtedly, he had worked with her while doing the usual apprentice chores. But had he ever really spoken to her? No. The tiredness that pressed down on his mind seemed to vanish as his big paws brought him ever closer to her.

"Hey, Fairypaw—" he began, only to drop off the remainder of his sentence as the she-cat turned away from him with a quiet huff. The golden tabby paused, tailtip twitching in thought. He tried a second time, padding around until they were face-to-face again. "Fairypaw, I was wondering if you—"

"Probably not." The sound of her voice sent shivers down Link's spine. It was so breezy, so gentle, so harmonious—even when uttering words of obvious rejection. The young tom stood stock-still, blue eyes following her neat, little paw as it returned to her soft muzzle for another licking. He watched as she made another pass over her head, this time grooming behind the other ear. As she was lowering her paw, her amber eyes opened slowly, then narrowed just as gracefully. The barest of wrinkles appeared at the top of her nose. "You're only over here because Blazingpaw hasn't returned to camp yet, aren't you?" she asked dryly. Before the gangly cat could reply, she added, "Or do you want something from me?"

"I was just wondering if you wanted to share tongues," Link meowed, tilting his head to the side questioningly. Fairypaw let out her breath in a quiet sigh, as if something were tiring her greatly.

"Not with you," she mewed, turning her head away smoothly to begin licking her flanks. Link's gaze dropped to the ground, a little shamefully. Was it because he was fresh from a strenuous training exercise? He didn't think cats could sweat—he hadn't _felt_ like he'd been sweating, even though he'd been exercising in full sun with a coat of fur. The taste and smell of his pelt probably wasn't the reason. Maybe Fairypaw didn't feel like putting herself near a cat whose fur was still full of mountain dust. After all, she was positively glowing in the last of the daylight.

Still, Link wanted to have some kind of interaction with this she-cat. Though they had been born into different walks of life, they were in the same place now. They were both apprentice warriors of MountainClan. They slept in the same den, barely a foot away from each other. He couldn't help feeling that it was important that they be friends. Just as he was turning to ask her what she had done that day, Fairypaw rose lightly to her feet and padded away from him. She was heading towards the warriors den with lithe strides, where Dodongofang rested with another warrior called Swiftwind. Link watched her go, feeling a little empty inside. He couldn't understand why Fairypaw acted so aloof around him. He understood that it would take time for the Clan to warm up to him fully, but he thought that it would happen a little faster with the apprentices. He saw Fairypaw settle down on the ground beside her mentor, watched the two cats butt heads in greeting, and turned away, shaking his head.

A nose pressing up against his own startled the golden tom, and he stumbled back in surprise. Blazingpaw's face filled his vision, her green eyes sparkling with the friendly light that he had never seen in Fairypaw's. The tabby she-cat purred as she rubbed his head against his shoulder. "So, how'd you like jumping practice?" she asked. Link shrugged.

"It was pretty fun," he admitted. Blazingpaw gave him a look of disbelief. "Well, okay...It was pretty fun, until Lavastar had to save my sorry tail. I was a little more than halfway up the wall when I misjudged a jump." Blazingpaw gave a sympathetic mew.

"Well, I know something that will help you forget all about that: some good gossip," she purred, glancing from side to side secretively. She flicked her tail for her friend to lower his head. The two cats crouched on the floor of the camp, faces at a rather conspiratorial distance. "I know where Brownpaw and Goronpaw went today."

Link was immediately interested. The two older apprentices had been rather secretive about their daily duties this morning. That was unusual; generally, those who knew what they were doing that day would discuss it with the others in the morning. When asked, Brownpaw had winked without saying anything, while Goronpaw had maintained that it was not for the others' ears. They had padded out of the den, tails high and paws light, at the same time Link had left to meet up with Lavastar.

"I was out hunting for the elders," Blazingpaw continued. Link nodded; he had left before she had wakened, and it was good to finally know what she had done today. "While I was on the trail of this one pika—and by the way, I think it's the biggest one the Clan's ever seen—I almost prowled right into Wolfosclaw! I asked him what he was doing, and he told me he was assessing Goronpaw and his sister!" She bounced happily, almost knocking Link under the chin with one of her paws. "They're going to be warriors, Link!"

The golden tom gasped, his eyes wide in pleasant surprise. There was no denying that the two cats were ready for it. Not only were they were almost too broad-shouldered to fit through the tunnel leading into the den, but they brought back more fresh-kill than any of the other apprentices and play-fighting with them could turn dangerous. He would certainly miss sharing a den with them. Goronpaw was a friendly, roguish tom who loved to recount his dreams to any cat who would listen. Brownpaw, though somewhat more serious than her brother, was nothing short of friendly herself, and her advice had helped Link many a time.

"They should be coming back any time now." Blazingpaw kneaded the ground excitedly with her forepaws. "Don't let them know you know, though! I think they want us to be surprised." Link nodded, glancing over his shoulder at where Fairypaw lay with her mentor. He heard Blazingpaw spit behind him.

"Great StarClan," she hissed under her breath. "I swear, the instant Fairypaw gets her warrior name, she's going to be in the nursery. Would you look at the two of them? It's _shameless_, that's what Brownpaw always says."

Link was startled. "In the nursery with whose kits?" he asked, feeling his gut jerk as he realized what the answer would be. Blazingpaw sighed as she padded up beside him. She rested her tail on his flank.

"You don't..._Feel_ that was about her, do you, Link?" she asked quietly. The tabby tom shook his head. _At least, I don't _think_ I do,_ he said to himself. _Sure, she's beautiful, but_—His thoughts were cut off as Blazingpaw mewed in his ear. "The whole Clan probably knows it. They're not terribly secretive about it...Most cats think that Fairypaw is in love with her mentor, and he loves her right back."

Link couldn't keep himself from baring his fangs in an impulsive grimace of disgust. "He's so much _older_ than her, though," he muttered. Blazingpaw shrugged, leaving him to wonder if age difference didn't matter so much with cats. Still, the thought of Fairypaw and...He shivered again and turned away.

At that same moment, he saw Brownpaw and Goronpaw enter the camp shoulder to shoulder, their jaws packed with prey. They looked tired, but full of excitement. Cats began to pad from their places around the camp to greet the soon-to-be warriors. Skullkit, Mirrorkit, and Volcanokit bounded ahead of the group, with their mother, Stormcloud hot on their tails. Blazingpaw gave her friend a nudge on the shoulder before trotting up to meet them. Link followed, figuring that they were going to help carry the fresh-kill. He cast one last glance over his shoulder at Fairypaw, only to see her staring right back at him, a cold look in her eyes. He flicked his tail to invite her to help, but the white she-cat ignored him.

"So, what were _you_ two doing today?" he heard Blazingpaw ask, and turned back to face his friends. Brownpaw set down her catches and rubbed heads with the golden tabby queen. Link padded up and stood just behind Blazingpaw.

"Is it _still_ not for our ears?" he asked. Goronpaw snorted in amusement.

"_Still_," Brownpaw assured him, pushing her nose into his shoulder. "Good to see you two coming to help. Grab what you can carry and put it on the pile."

Link and Blazingpaw scrambled to obey, clearing the entrance of the camp of the captured prey. They worked together, and it didn't take them long to complete the task. Still, as he reached for a brown-feathered bird, the golden tom heard Goronpaw mutter jokingly, "That's right, do what we say. You're going to have to get used to taking orders from us." Turning towards the overhang of rock under which the fresh-kill pile rested, Link gave his friend's ear a playful flick with the tip of his tail. _Although, if what Blazingpaw told me is true, then he's right,_ he thought. _Once he's made a warrior, he'll be within rights to order me around._

It was then that Lavastar chose to make her appearance, her dark ginger fur shining somewhat in the low light. It seemed that she had retreated to her den upon returning from her training session with her apprentice, making herself look presentable for the ceremony that was soon to come. Her thick pelt was sleek and well-groomed, with nary a hair out of place. Link was instantly self-conscious of his ruffled fur, which he really hadn't paid much attention to all evening. He watched as his mentor touched noses with both of the burly apprentices, then padded between them to meet Wolfosclaw. The two cats walked away from the assembled Clan, clearly deep in conversation. Link pricked up his ears to catch a few scattered phrases from their talk.

"...sky is so clear—a good omen..."

"...took out a hunting patrol by the Canyon; they should be back soon..."

The golden tabby turned back to his friends. The welcome party had all but cleared away, leaving only Goronpaw, Brownpaw, Blazingpaw, and Link. The four apprentices stood together in the dusky camp, their eyes glowing in the growing shadows. None of them spoke, but there didn't seem to be a need for words. It seemed so strange to Link, that after so little time spent with them, he was already incredibly fond of these cats. He was genuinely sad to think of bedding down without a wisecrack from Goronpaw to keep him happy in his dreams, or waking up without Brownpaw encouraging him to do his best that day.

Perhaps it was the ceremony close at hand, but tonight seemed somewhat mystical to Link. Cricketsong filled the air in a symphony of sound; the young cat realized that he had never really noticed the diversity there was to be heard in the simple insects' chorus. Some droned long, others chirped short staccato pulses; some sang high, others low. Link inhaled deeply, filling himself with the warmth of the approaching night. Overhead, the first few stars had sparked into life in the indigo-purple skies; the round, white Moon was just starting to peek over the edge of the camp's rocky sides. It was nearly full, with only a few nights taken out of one side—the Gathering would take place soon.

A whiff of blood and cat distracted Link from his admiration of the twilight world, and he turned to see a group of three cats emerging from the camp tunnel. Hillfire, a ginger tom with bright orange eyes, was at the head of the group; the light reflected from his amber gaze dimmed as he narrowed his eyes at the sight of the young tabby. Close behind him was a pale brown tom named Sandspots, and after him was a white she-cat by the name of Moonflower. All three warriors held fresh-kill in their jaws. They deposited it on the pile without a word to any of the four apprentices, although a few congratulatory glances were cast at the brown littermates. Then, Hillfire, who had obviously led the patrol, trotted off in the direction of Lavastar's den, probably following the Wolfosclaw's scent. Link reasoned the deputy wanted to know that his warriors had returned safely.

A few minutes later, Hillfire reappeared from the shadows beneath the Highbranch in the wake of Lavastar and Wolfosclaw. Goronpaw and Brownpaw, who had been giving their pelts a careful washing, looked up in interest. Lavastar gathered her legs under her body and lunged straight up into the air, landing gracefully on the thick tree limb. Wolfosclaw leapt up after her, perching on the rock that the tree's roots were wrapped around—the deputy's position. The dark ginger queen threw back her head and yowled, "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Highbranch for a Clan meeting!"

The cats of MountainClan seemed to stream from the rocks themselves, their pelts whispering together softly as they moved to the area beneath the Highbranch. Blazingpaw flicked her tail for Link to follow after her, and the two apprentices squeezed their way between warriors until they found themselves at the front of the group. Ghostpaw—StarClan knew _where _he had come from—was waiting there for them, and he gave his sister an affectionate head-rub when she sat down beside him. Link craned his neck to try and spot Fairypaw. There—sitting beside her mentor cooly, her white pelt shining in the darkness.

He was jolted away from his thoughts of her by Lavastar's voice. Every word she spoke was carefully measured, as if she wanted to emphasize the importance of each and every syllable. There was respect in her voice, too, as well as strength and conviction. It was spellbinding to listen to, and Link felt shiver after icy shiver speed down his spine at the sound of it. He watched in a mixture of awe and curiosity as the ritual unfolded.

The dark ginger she-cat had fixed her gaze on the brightest star in the night sky; Link recognized it as the North Star, for he had used it as a guide on many of his travels.**(1)** "I, Lavastar, leader of MountainClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these two apprentices." At that, Brownpaw and Goronpaw, seated at the front of the assembled Clan, seemed to sit a little straighter. "They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as warriors in their turn."

Her green eyes shifted down from the vaulting sky above to center on the two young cats seated beneath her. "Brownpaw, Goronpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your lives?"

That sentence sent Link's mind racing. Suddenly, he realized what being an apprentice meant to these cats. _The difference between a boy and a man is the youth he is between the two points,_ Impa had told him once. Now the young tom's mind put the saying into Clan context: The difference between a kit and a warrior is the apprentice they were. A cat who is a warrior might give their life in the service of their Clan...but it was when they were an _apprentice_ that they were asked to be willing to do it. Training taught them to give their all for the ones they loved, to be selfless, to be courageous, to be strong. Now Link truly saw what StarClan had asked of him when they told him to join MountainClan, and honestly, it made him a little nervous.

Goronpaw lifted his chin proudly in the shadows, his eyes glinting in the starlight. His voice was strong and deep, full of confidence, as he meowed, "I do."

Beside him, Brownpaw raised her eyes to meet her leader's. "I do," she echoed calmly.

"Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior names: Brownpaw, from this moment you will be known as Brownfur. StarClan honors your patience and your determination, and we welcome you as a full warrior of MountainClan." With that, she plunged down from the Highbranch and padded over to the mottled brown queen. Link saw Brownfur quiver with excitement. Lavastar rested her muzzle on the new warrior's head, and received a respectful shoulder-lick in response. Then, she stepped back, and the newly-named Brownfur stood and padded over to stand beside the rest of the warriors. Lavastar turned to Goronpaw.

"Goronpaw, from this moment you will be known as Goronback," she meowed. "StarClan honors your strength and your bravery, and we welcome you as a full warrior of MountainClan." She repeated her actions with Brownfur's brother, then stepped back proudly. Goronback trotted eagerly over to where Brownfur stood. The two siblings exchanged affectionate licks.

Link was nearly startled out of his fur at the thunderous chorus of voices that rose up from the assmebled ranks of MountainClan. Every cat, it seemed, from frail Cloudedeyes to muscular Raggedstripe, was giving voice to the new warriors' names. Their voices rose into the warm, summery air, ringing through the night. The enthusiastic chanting sent another set of chills down Link's back, and he hurriedly joined them to show his pride and respect for his Clanmates: "Brownfur! Goronback! Brownfur! Goronback!"

"In the tradition of our ancestors," Lavastar continued when the tributes had died down, "Brownfur and Goronback must sit in silent vigil until dawn, and guard the camp alone while we sleep." With a flick of her tail, she dismissed the Clan and padded back into her own den. Link turned to Blazingpaw.

"I guess that's it, then?" he asked. The she-cat nodded, and she, Link, and Ghostpaw made their way back to the apprentices den. As he walked across the floor of the camp, the young tabby tom gazed up at the stars, which were now as numerous as the grains of sandy soil at his feet. A kind of awe filled his heart.

The words of the ceremony rang through the young cat's mind once more; Link realized that where he stood was between the Finite and the Infinite. If and when he was made a warrior, Lavastar would ask him if he were willing to die for MountainClan; to die for both the cats who purred his name in greeting and the cats who gave him disgusted glares. If he were ever forced to make good on that promise, that would be the end of his time in Hyrule, but certainly not the end of _him_. His spirit would either run through the skies with StarClan or enter the Sacred Realm to remain forever with the Three. Link paused at the entrance of the den, calling to mind his new take on Impa's saying. _The difference between a kit and a warrior is the apprentice they were._

At that moment, the former Hylian vowed that when his day came, he _would _have the courage needed to answer Lavastar's question. He swore that he _would _make her and all of MountainClan proud. He promised that he _would_ have the heart of a warrior. He stood in quiet contemplation for a few moments longer, watching the strengthening light of the stars and Moon turn the camp silver. Then, with a confident nod, he turned back to the den and slipped down the tunnel. Blazingpaw and Ghostpaw were already curled up in their nests, as was Fairypaw; the snowy-white cat had probably entered the den before any of them. Link picked his way carefully over to his own nest beside Blazingpaw and settled down to sleep.

**(1) Maybe you've already gotten this idea from the prologue, but Silverpelt isn't visible in Hyrule. So, instead of looking there, leaders look to the North Star.**


	8. Chapter 6

The next morning found Link on his first border patrol, with Raggedstripe, Rockpelt, and Ghostpaw, as well as another warrior by the name of Swoopingclaw. The sky was gray, with just a faint smudge of pale yellow to the east that signaled the rising of the sun. Crickets droned sleepily in the scant brush, their buzzing calls merely a memory of the previous night's insect orchestra. The air was warm and dry, assuring the lone patrol that the day would only grow hotter. The teasing promise did nothing to faze Link; his mind was still back in his mossy nest, snoring next to Blazingpaw. As he padded along the dry trails behind Rockpelt, his jaws gaped open in a massive yawn.

"Tired?" a soft voice mewed. Link, blinking owlishly in the low light, turned in the direction of the voice. He was surprised to see a glimmer of amusement in Ghostpaw's amber eyes, and even more surprised when the quiet cat spoke again. "Dawn patrol's always a little rough."

"I'd give anything to be back in the den," the golden tabby murmured. He heard a few soft _mrrow_s from the front of the patrol. Raggedstripe, walking at the head of the group, turned over her shoulders to look at him. Her eyes held a friendly glint.

"Wouldn't we all," she purred. "The good news is that you get used to it eventually."

"Especially if Wolfosclaw thinks you're good at patrolling," Swoopingclaw put in, his whiskers twitching with amusement. "Are there ever days when you're _not_ on at least one patrol, Raggedstripe?" The dark brown tabby queen spat angrily.

"Great StarClan! I don't know _where_ that cat got the idea that I enjoy border patrols!" Her banded tail lashed in irritation. "He's got smoke in his brain, I swear."

"Maybe it's not that he thinks you enjoy them," Rockpelt mewed. "Maybe he just thinks you're a good cat for them."

Raggedstripe sighed. "Rockpelt, must you always be the voice of reason?" she asked, striking him on the head with her tailtip teasingly. The gray tomcat flinched away from the playful blow at first, only to retaliate by slapping her tail with a paw. "Okay, here's the deal: Wolfosclaw wants us to check out the FieldClan border, says they've been laying down markers on our side of the river again."

"Why do they even _want_ our side of the river?" Link asked. "Wouldn't they have to swim to—oh, no, never mind. I forgot about the bridge that was there." Raggedstripe nodded, though she looked a little annoyed at his comment. "But, really—why do they want our side of the river?"

"It's more land for them to hunt on," Swoopingclaw answered with a shrug. "Even if they've got to cross the bridge to get to it. Land is land, kit." Link flattened his ears angrily at the slight. Swoopingclaw and a few other warriors never used his name, always calling him 'kit' instead. It annoyed him, to be sure, but not nearly enough to make him want to go to Lavastar.

"Right, but it's _our _land, so we have to go and correct the scent line when they get it wrong," Raggedstripe concluded. She flicked her tail. "Come on, we'll head this way." She led the patrol up a narrow path between two cliffs. Rockpelt trotted after her, followed by Ghostpaw and Link, with Swoopingclaw taking up the rear. The trail led upward; the former Hylian guessed it would end on the other side of the stone wall that sheltered Kakariko from the rest of Hyrule. Tired as he was, the thought of seeing the spreading field from a cat's eyes intrigued him and kept his paws moving up the incline.

At the top of the hill, Link paused, gazing around in amazement. Much of Hyrule Field lay in gray shadow, though the steadily rising sun over the Kokiri Forest was turning its easternmost edges pale yellow. Lon Lon Ranch was a darkened box, with the soft sunlight brining just a touch of life to its flagstone walls. The redstone cliffs that marked the entrance to the Gerudo Valley lay in darkness, a black blur on the horizon. The Castle's tall spires and towers climbed high into the air as if seeking to touch the last remaining stars with their dark, spindly fingers. The golden tabby tom could have stared in awe for nine lives, but Swoopingclaw gave him a none-too-gentle reminder of his presence at the end of the group, and Link stumbled forward after Ghostpaw.

As he padded down the trail that would lead the patrol out of the rocky mountain area, Link was struck once more how strange everything was now. So many people he knew lived either on that wide plain, or in the areas surrounding it. They all probably assumed that he was back in the Kokiri Forest where he had been raised, playing with all the carefree joy of one of the Forest Children. A wry grin crossed his muzzle. If only they knew he had nearly fallen to his death at least three times, sparred with a cat almost quadruple his size, learned to catch and kill small animals—and eat them _raw_...

He was almost insulted at the idea that others thought he was goofing off.

"Link, come walk up here with me for a while," Raggedstripe meowed over her shoulder, snapping Link out of his memories. The young tomcat exchanged glances with Ghostpaw before jogging forward to obey. The brown tabby gave him a curt nod as he joined her. "Lavastar told me to show you MountainClan's other borders, since she didn't have enough time to do so herself." Link nodded rapidly. "And I suppose she'll also want me to give you a quick rundown on a few things that all apprentices should know." Turning back, she added, "Ghostpaw, Rockpelt has already shown you all of this, but a refresher never hurt any cat." The quiet tom nodded solemnly.

At the bottom of the path, Raggedstripe paused, hissing impatiently as Link—who had failed to notice her stop—padded ahead a few paces. Ducking his head, the tabby tom darted back to stand beside the warrior. "Always hesitate when you're at the end of trails like these," Raggedstripe told him. "Both _on_ the mountain and _off _of it. On the mountain, there are occasional brave Twolegs hiking and Rockwalkers rolling—two things you don't want to run into. Off the mountain, you're entering a very open space, so there's no telling what might see you and go after you." Link nodded. "We pause. We look around. We listen. We scent the air. Do it now."

Link hesitantly poked his head between the rocky flanks of the trail and glanced from side to side, like a child preparing to cross a street. He pricked up his ears and swivelled them around, only to flatten them angrily as he heard Swoopingclaw mutter, "He looks like a rabbit with those huge things!" As he was turning to confront his taunter, Raggedstripe gave him a nip on the shoulder and growled from him to focus. Nodding to his stand-in mentor, the young tom opened his mouth and sucked the still, morning air over the scent glands on the roof of his mouth. He could smell the water of the river, as well as a powerful, musky odor that was feline in origin. Turning to Raggedstripe, he mewed, "I think it's safe. Is it?"

"Yes." Flicking her tail for the rest of the patrol to follow, the burly queen padded out into the open area with Link at her side. The group of cats walked with their shoulders mere inches form the rock wall, heading to the left. Link noticed that they all seemed wary to pass the entrance to Kakariko Village—whether it was because it was a place full of Twolegs or because it put them even more out in the open, he couldn't say. He knew they were following the rock wall out of instinct; a predator has more difficulty grabbing its prey if said prey is against a solid surface. Still, as logical as their reasoning was, the tabby tom still found it amusing to watch these rough, muscular mountain cats cross the village gates one by one with lowered ears and tails.

Once on the other side of the village entrance, Raggedstripe continued down towards the water, flank against the dark brown stone that reared over her head. "Now, while not strictly part of our mission, it never hurts for the dawn patrol to check the FallsClan border," she muttered. "We rarely send our moonhigh patrol off the mountain, because bonedancers walk this area at night."

"Bonedancers?" Link repeated. "What are they?"

"You don't want to know, kit," Swoopingclaw meowed. Raggedstripe turned over her shoulder and glared at him. "But, if you really do, they're horrible monsters. They're about as big as a Twoleg kit, but they don't even have any skin to cover their bones. They just rattle and shuffle along—and their claws are seriously sharp. That's what happened to Tornear, y'know—got into a scrap with one of them."

"Oh, Stalchilds," Link murmured. To his surprise, Raggedstripe nodded.

"Yes, some cats call them that," she admitted. "Bonedancers was the term all the Clans used until the horseplace cats Russie and Trickster told FieldClan what their Twolegs called them. But because of danger from the bonedancers—or Stalchilds, whichever you prefer—MountainClan rarely comes down after dark. It may be a weakness in our defenses, but nearly all warriors agree that the bonedancers are more dangerous to us than any enemy Clan could be." She shrugged. "FallsClan doesn't have to worry about the bonedancers, though—if they're ever spotted, they can dive into the river and be safe."

Link nodded. He remembered pulling the same stunt many a time during his night travels across Hyrule Field. When the Stalchilds began to mob him, he would hurl himself into the nearest source of water. He'd always laughed, even after being aged by the Sages, at the sight of the clanking monsters standing on the bank hopelessly until the rising of the sun crumbled their bones into dust. He came back to the present as Raggedstripe continued, "FallsClan have been known to use our lack of nighttime patrolling as an opportunity to put down markers outside their borders. We'll check it out and see what we find. Maybe they decided to leave us in peace for the moment."

As they neared the bend in the river that marked where it flowed from Zoras' Domain, Link found his nose assaulted with yet another whiff of strange cat-smell. He pulled back, wrinkling his nose in distaste. "Ugh! What is that _smell_?" he growled. Raggedstripe glanced at him, giving a short _mrrow_.

"I guess Lavastar didn't get a chance to teach you the scents of the other Clans, either," she meowed. "I'll help with that. What you're smelling now, Link, is FallsClan. Not just any FallsClan scent, either—this is FallsClan scent on _our_ land." She shook her head and clucked her tongue sympathetically. "Shame on them, they've forgotten their border again. Well, we'll just have to remind them where it really lies, won't we?"

Link watched, unsure of what to do with himself, as the patrol fanned out and laid down scent markers in a few choice areas. He wanted to help, but wasn't entirely sure he knew how. Not only did he not know _where_ the border should be marked, but he also didn't have the faintest idea of _how_ to mark it. Was he supposed to just start peeing? With the others watching? Relief came when Raggedstripe beckoned him back to her side with a twitch of her tail. "I hope you were paying close attention," she told him. "Because that's where the border_ needs_ to be. Someday, you might be asked to mark it in MountainClan's name."

With a nod to the others, the broad-shouldered tabby continued along, this time walking on the side of the river. She turned back to the golden tom beside her. "Here's something interesting for you to think about," she mewed. "Where your paws stand now is MountainClan territory. Across the river"—she waved her tail to indicate—"is FieldClan territory. And between them is...?"

"A no-cat's land?"

"FallsClan territory."

"Really?"

"Cuts right between the two—the river. We always say that FallsClan got the river because no other Clan wanted it. Sure, we're allowed to drink the water and wash our paws if we need to—but it's not our river." Her face wrinkled up into a snarl as the first strange cat-smell washed over them. "I think we've found the FieldClan markers," she muttered. "Let's get to work."

Link stepped back again to watch the patrol carry out the task of resetting to boundary lines between the two Clans' territories. Already his mind was whirling at the things he had learned this morning. He settled down to sort through it all, feeling the warmth of the risen sun warm his tabby pelt. The gray of early morning had retreated even further westward now, leaving most of Hyrule Field in a soft, yellowy glow.

Curling his tail over his paws, as he had seen other cats do but never really done himself, the young tom thought. What had he learned? Be careful when leaving the mountain—wait, look, listen, sniff, then go. FallsClan and FieldClan often reset the borderlines in an attempt to get more hunting territory. If some cat tells you to take a moonhigh patrol off the mountain, don't go. Shoulder to the wall, don't trust any gaps in the rock face. Be wary in the open.

"Link, let's head back!" The golden tabby jolted, stumbling half onto his paws at the sound of Raggedstripe's voice. He staggered, caught himself, then shook out his pelt and trotted over to rejoin the group. The dark brown tabby queen twitched her ears, as if telling Link that he didn't have to walk alongside her anymore. Nodding obediently, he took up his former position beside Ghostpaw, and the patrol began their trek back to camp.

**

* * *

**

"I think I feel his tail..."

"Goronback, would it honestly kill you to just call him out?"

"But this is so much fun! Oops—that's not his tail, I'm betting."

"This is stupid. Link! Are you still asleep? Wake up; we're heading out hunting and want you to come with us."

Slowly, Link opened his eyes, squinting in the dappled brightness. He was in the apprentices den, curled up near Ghostpaw. A familiar dark brown paw on the end of a tawny leg was groping around the floor of the den. Sunlight, so bright it could only belong to high noon, streamed through the gaps in the bush's leaves and spotted the ground with gold. The tabby tom stretched in his nest and yawned, making sure to give Goronback's paw a solid kick when it came close enough. He heard the warrior hiss a curse and watched the paw retreat.

"You know, you two could probably have come in," Link mewed, heaving himself to his feet. "I know you're warriors, but you only slept in this den two nights ago." Giving himself a quick wash—an action that had quickly become a habit—he added between licks, "So, hunting? Sounds like fun. I'll have to ask Lavastar, though, and make sure she doesn't want me for anything else today."

"We've already talked to her," Brownfur assured him. "She said it sounded like a wonderful opportunity for you to practice your skills and get some advice from cats other than her. We were planning on going to the FallsClan side of our territory, since most cats hunt on the camp side."

Briefly, Link tried to assemble a map of MountainClan territory in his mind to figure out where Brownfur meant. FallsClan, from what he had gathered from numerous oblique references, lived in the area around Zoras' Domain, which was due east of Death Mountain. So the FallsClan side of the territory would be on the other side of the Death Mountain Trail. Good. The tabby nodded to himself, proud at how quickly he was learning to orient himself in his new home. Now he knew where he was going. Giving the still-sleeping Ghostpaw a glance that was somewhat envious, Link padded up the smooth dirt tunnel and into the light. Brownfur and Goronback were waiting for him, and the threesome set out together to hunt.

As they trotted along the familiar paths, Link found himself curious about these two cats whose status in the Clan had changed literally overnight. They still looked the same, still smelled the same...How was it that they could have assumed such different names and responsibilities so quickly? He glanced between them, then spoke the question that had been gnawing at his mind all throughout his early morning patrol. "Tell me something: Did that ceremony last night change your names _permanently_?"

"Of course," Brownfur replied evenly, not sounding fazed in the least. Link was unsatisfied by her answer; he found it hard to believe that after years of being called one name, someone could switch overnight to another. He pressed further, hoping for a different answer.

"And the whole Clan just accepts it? They won't accidentally call you Brownpaw or Goronpaw?"

"Generally not." Goronback glanced down at him skeptically, as if he couldn't believe that some cat would actually think such a thing. Link nodded, a little more satisfied by the pale brown tom's response. "If there's a really senile elder, they might mix your name up sometimes, use your apprentice name instead of your warrior name." He turned his glittering eyes to his sister. "Like Redflower," he commented, and Brownfur let out a short _mrrow._

"Redflower was one of our Clan elders," she explained for Link's benefit. "She died about half a moon before you joined us, Link. Firetail was an apprentice at the same time we were, although he received his warrior name about four moons ago. Redflower called him Firepaw until the day she joined StarClan."

"She probably _still_ calls him Firepaw, up in StarClan," Goronback muttered, rolling his eyes. Brownfur gave him a nudge with her shoulder, as if scolding him for speaking ill of the dead. The tan tomcat shrugged lightly. "The point we're getting at in all of this is: Yes, the Clan tries their best to use a warrior's new name. Is it hard? Can be. I think I've called my sister Brown_paw_ more often than Brown_fur_ today."

"And when Wolfosclaw came to tell us our vigil was over, you almost walked into the apprentices den to sleep," Brownfur teased, flicking his ear with her tailtip playfully. Goronback nipped at the furry appendage, flattening his ears. "I've heard some cats say that they still feel like apprentices for moons after the ceremony, and some cats who say that they felt completely and utterly like warriors. As for me, I'm in the middle. I feel like I want to be Brownfur the apprentice, not Brownfur the warrior."

"Same," grunted Goronback, flicking a rock on the trail with his paw. "I'm glad to be a warrior, but at the same time, I don't feel like I'm fully ready yet. I'm hoping Lavastar doesn't want us to mentor Magmaheart's kits."

"Speaking of warriors and mentoring," Brownfur meowed suddenly, "I was thinking about this almost the whole vigil." She looked down at the long-eared tabby tom padding between the two of them. "What's Lavastar going to do when she has to make _you_ a warrior, Link? Your name doesn't fit in with Clan naming rituals. Do you think she's going to force you to take a warrior name so she doesn't have to mess with the wording of the ceremony?"

"Great StarClan!" Link spat, using the cats' oath aloud for the first time. It felt strangely comfortable, and he decided to use it more often. "I hope not. I couldn't stand to think of changing my name to make it fit in with the other apprentices' when Lavastar asked me to; changing it to fit in with the warriors' would be the same thing all over again."

To his surprise, the two young warriors nodded sagely. "I guess it's honorable that you want to hold onto your rogue roots," Brownfur mewed. "Some cats might see that unwillingness to conform as disloyalty to the Clan, because you're showing loyalty to your past as a rogue rather than your future as a warrior. On the other paw, I see it as a sign of how strong your loyalties can be—holding onto what you used to know even when every cat wants you to let go." She drew her tail along his flank. "It's noble."

Link was both startled and flattered by his friend's calm acceptance; he wondered if she would still say the same thing if she knew that it was not a rogue name he clung to, but a Twoleg name. He glanced to his right and saw Goronback nodding. "I'd say the same," he murmured. "Brownpa—I mean Brownfur! Brownfur's the one who has all the right words! That's what I was going to say!" **(1)**

"Hah!" Brownfur aimed her paw at her brother's ears, but her blow failed to connect. Goronback had bounded away at the first realization of his mistake, and was shouting corrections over his shoulder at light speed. Brownfur slipped the young apprentice a wink before tearing after her littermate. Link's tail gave an amused jerk at the tip, and he pounded after them. He followed the sounds of their pawsteps towards the Canyon, and entered the gorge just in time to see the mottled queen throw herself bodily at the light brown tom she was pursuing. They scuffled together, rolling over the soft sand in a mock catfight.

Link watched with growing amusement as he realized that everything MountainClan's new warriors had just told him was true. Their hissed threats and gentle swats were those of sparring apprentices, playful and totally immature. The golden tom slipped between the whirl of fur and the wall of the Canyon silently, then continued walking until he reached the end. Then, he turned back and meowed over his shoulder, "You know, I'm going off hunting. Whenever you two _mighty warriors_ are finished, feel free to join me." He said the sardonic phrase with so much emphasis that the bitter sarcasm seemed to echo off the sides of the gorge, flooding it with a bitter tide. Brownfur and Goronback stopped their sparring match with speed that only shame can give. They rose to their feet, shook sand from their pelts, and streaked after their old denmate eagerly.

When he reached the ridge, Link, who was still in the lead, began padding down the narrow path Lavastar had shown him on their first day together. At Goronback's uneasy rumble, he stopped and craned his neck back to study his friends. "What?"

"MountainClan don't go that way usually," the dust-brown cat explained. "Twolegs use that path far too often for our liking." He pointed with his nose toward the front of Death Mountain; Link saw what could be a trail curling along the front of it, winding over the top of the Dodongo Caverns. "We go up and around, using the Dodongo Ridge. We'll show you the way. It's a little long, but it's much safer." Flicking his tail for the apprentice to follow, he led the way along the ridgeline, taking a curve that Link had never really noticed before.

The new turn took them to the western side of the mountain; it was there, snuggled between two scruffy bushes, that the trail began. It was a steep incline at first, but leveled off after a few tail-lengths. Goronback started up first, flicking his tail to Link to beckon the young tabby tom after him. Link obeyed, glancing over his shoulder to see Brownfur take up the rear guard. As they padded along the rough, rock-strewn trail, Goronback spoke. "The Gathering's in two nights," he meowed. "Who do you think Lavastar and Wolfosclaw are going to choose to go?"

Link pricked up his ears curiously, though not to catch Brownfur's list of potential Gathering-goers. He vaguely remembered Blazingpaw telling him when they had first met that a Gathering was fast approaching. He tried to recall what she had told him—something about meeting the other Clans in peace. _Do they really fight so often that a peaceful meeting is something to be excited about?_ he wondered. _I guess bringing peace to Hyrule only applied to the Hylians living there. And speaking of the Hylians living here—_

"Great StarClan, Link, watch where you put your paws!"

The golden tabby let out a startled yowl as the ground beneath his forepaw began to shift. He stumbled back, tail fluffing out in surprise, and glanced from one warrior to the other. Both looked genuinely concerned, although there was a glint of wry amusement in Goronback's eyes. The pale tom gave his apprentice friend a light cuff around the ears. "You stupid furball!" he chided. "You almost walked right off the edge of the path! Didn't your mother tell you to be careful on the mountain?"

"I used to live in the forest, remember?" Link shook himself out, then squinted down at the figure making its way up the Death Mountain Trail below—the same figure that had nearly led his curious pawsteps off the ridge. It was strange, the way they stuck to the shadows of the wide gorge. From the height he was at, it was difficult for the young tom to see the traveler's face and identify them. He heard a hiss from Goronback and turned.

"_That's_ why we took this trail," he muttered. "Twolegs. A couple of the kits from Twolegplace come up here and poke around the Dodongo Lairs for fun sometimes. If they spot a patrol, they'll usually throw stones at it or chase the cats around." He shook his head. "Mad, all of their kind, I swear by StarClan."

Link, still leaning his neck as far over the edge of the trail as he dared, frowned in careful thought. The Twoleg was close enough that he could tell it was female—and judging from the color of her hair, a very old one. She seemed to be looking for something; her head was always moving from side to side, up and down. There was a slow kind of purpose to the way she walked and moved, and an impressive fluidity of movement which her white hair belied. He could have watched her comb the mountain trail forever, but a gentle nudge from Brownfur returned his mind to their initial mission. Giving the searching Twoleg one last glance over his shoulder, Link bounded ahead after Goronback. His duty was to his Clan—and hunting to feed them.

**

* * *

**

A few hours later, the golden tabby tom walked proudly back into camp carrying a large, long-tailed mountain bird in his jaws. The catch had not been an easy one; Lavastar had only given him a brief rundown on stalking avian prey. After some coaching from Brownfur, who was undoubtedly one of the Clan's best hunters, Link pressed his striped flank against the sediment-banded rocks of the mountain in a surprisingly efficient display of camouflage. The bird only knew he was there when his paw kicked a stone against its heel. It had attempted to take flight, but Link's legs were faster than its wings, and he managed to hurl himself onto its back before it got too high. His added weight sent the bird crashing back to earth, where predator and prey began to wrestle with each other. Goronback had been the one to actually _kill_ the bird, but both he and Brownfur decided to give their apprentice friend the glory of the catch.

Wolfosclaw was lounging near the warriors den, washing his lean foreleg with long, luxuriating strokes of his tongue. His emerald eyes, which were narrowed into contented slits, flew wide at the sight of the young tomcat toting a catch almost as large as its captor. He let out an amused snort and called, "Don't get too ambitious, Link." The young tabby flicked his tail to indicate he'd heard. "No cat's fed the elders yet. Why don't you take that to them?" Another tail-flick, and Link was trotting in the direction of the hollow log. One long, pointed ear turned back just in time to hear the deputy murmur to himself, "For a rogue, he's certainly well-behaved—I'll give him that much."

For the rest of the evening, Link would wonder whether or not that was a sign the MountainClan deputy was starting to like him.

**(1) I personally find it really odd that no cat in the books **_**ever**_** screws up a new warrior's name. I mean, they've been calling them "Whateverpaw" for ages!**


	9. Chapter 7

"Great StarClan, this tunnel is long," muttered Blazingpaw. Beside her, Link grunted in agreement. Though it had been full of golden sunlight earlier, the passage was now dimly lit by scant silver beams slanting in from scattered holes in the rock ceiling. Cricketsong filtered in from above, buzzing softly off the stony walls of the Longtunnel. Shifting shadows up ahead marked the muscled shoulders of MountainClan cats; Link reasoned that the tallest of the shapes was Lavastar.

Turning to Ghostpaw, who was walking between him and Blazingpaw but a little behind, Link mewed softly, "Is this going to be your first Gathering, too, Ghostpaw?" The young tom, whose pale fur made him glow with a truly ghostly light in the semidarkness, nodded in silence. His faded amber eyes flicked from his sister to Link before settling ahead once more.

Blazingpaw gave a little caper of glee despite her tired paws. "This is going to be so exciting!" she squealed, her raised voice echoing off the walls rather jarringly. "I can't wait to see the other Clans' leaders and see if they're everything I've ever heard!"

An amused _mrrow_ drifted back from further up, riding gently on the warm, still air. "It sounds like you'll have plenty of energy for training tomorrow, Blazingpaw," Craterfire joked. "If you're this energetic after a trek through the Longtunnel..." The rest of his words were drowned out by the combined sounds of purrs of laughter and Blazingpaw's unhappy whines.

As he padded along the smooth, stone floor of the tunnel, Link became aware of a change in the air. The scent of MountainClan was no longer all he could smell; now there came a whiff of what he now knew to be FallsClan. The air that wove between his whiskers softly was fresher somehow, and carried with it the breath of the night world, cool and dark. The ears and shoulders of the cats ahead of him were outlined by the silver glow of the full moon that hung above Hyrule. The golden tabby tom's heart surged in his chest like a pinned pika. They had reached the end of the Longtunnel at last! The Gathering was in sight!

A new spring in his steps, Link slipped forward, each step bringing him closer and closer to what many cats had promised him would be an exciting night. He waited with a negligible amount of patience while a warrior by the name of Liontail helped Dragonheart guide blind Cloudedeyes out of the tunnel. His paws kneaded the rock below excitedly as his long ears pricked to catch the sounds of the world outside. Dragonheart let out a rusty-sounding purr that seemed to make the night all the more wonderful. "Look at him," he rasped to Liontail. "Have you ever seen an apprentice more eager to get to Fourstones than this one?"

Liontail responded with an amused snort. "Better hurry up, Cloudedeyes, before Link runs you over," she teased, winking good-naturedly at the young tom. Cloudedeyes swivelled an ear back towards the tabby apprentice.

"I can hear him pattering on the floor of the Longtunnel," she murmured. "Patience, young one—I'm moving as fast as my old bones can carry me."

"Oh, no, take your time," mewed Link, who was thoroughly caught up in the night that lay just pawsteps away from him; the suspense was almost as much fun as he'd been promised the Gathering itself would be. The high-vaulting sky, its indigo-ink surface scattered with gauzy clouds and flecked with stars, arched over Hyrule. The ragged cliffs outside Zoras' Domain were softened in the argent glow of the round moon, and seemed to soar towards the heavens. Pricking up his ears, the tabby tom could hear the muted whoosh of the river's flow as it cut its way through the valley, winding and twisting towards far-off Lake Hylia. Crickets chorused full-force from the shadows, singing the joys of the cats' night.

Once Cloudedeyes was clear of the tunnel, Link all but darted like a startled minnow into the open air. His blue eyes were wide with amazement, his jaw was almost to the grass at his paws. Not far off, he could see a rearing plateau bathed in full moonlight—and shadows atop it that were sure to be other cats! He glanced over his shoulder for his two apprentice friends and, once they were together again, bolted after the rest of his Clan. The three of them came to a group halt upon reaching Goronback and Brownfur.

"You three stick to us like a collar to a kittypet at the beginning," the dark-pawed tom murmured. "We've been to quite a few Gatherings in our days, so we can point out the important cats—Clan leaders and such."

Brownfur nodded. "After that, though, go off and mingle with the other apprentices," she added. "Gatherings are a great opportunity for you to get to know the other cats in this land. You can learn hunting and fighting techniques, make friends..." She shrugged. Her eyes then began to glint with a mischievous light. "I'm looking forward to seeing Tallpaw, personally. I bet she's still an _apprentice_."

"Gatherings are also, as Brownfur has just shown you, a wonderful opportunity to make rivals in the other Clans," Goronback muttered, rolling his eyes. Turning to his sister, he asked, "Brownfur, what are you going to do if Tallpaw says she's _been _a warrior since we saw her two moons ago?"

"Call her a liar," the she-cat retorted with a proud toss of her sleek head, her tail curling up. The young cats' conversation was interrupted by the appearance of Dodongofang. The dark brown tabby's eyes were narrowed into slits of warning.

"Just keep something in mind, you three," he meowed sternly, addressing the apprentices. "While Gatherings are a time of peace and fellowship for the Clans, that peace only lasts as long as the moon is full. Be careful not to say anything that could make MountainClan seem weak. Otherwise, we might have another Clan causing trouble for us once the moon wanes." Link and the others nodded seriously.

The river crossing was made by way of a fallen log that stretched over the smooth, dark water. Link padded over somewhat cautiously, biting his lower lip. It was the middle of summer—greenleaf, the cats said—so the river probably wouldn't be all that cold. But the former Hylian knew from hard experience that the current was fiercely swift and strong, and he wasn't sure how well he could swim in his cat body. And, come to think of it, if he were to get pulled all the way through the river's course, he doubted the grate at the foot of Hyrule Castle's walls would stop him; he'd probably slip right between the bars and be sucked into the airless world under the cobblestones of the market. A shudder rippled from his nose to his tail at the thought of drowning without performing the task StarClan had called him to do. The golden tom pulled his neck upright and focused his attention on the ground on the log's other end.

From there, it was a quick jaunt over to the rearing plateau where Lavastar and most of the MountainClan representatives waited. The dark ginger queen's expression was unreadable in the shadow of Fourstones, but she seemed pleased at how well her apprentice had held up thus far. Link craned his neck back until he felt the tips of his ears brush his shoulders on either side, trying to find the path to the top. His blue gaze found nothing, save for—he gulped reflexively—jagged spurs of stone that jutted from Fourstones' rocky flanks. MountainClan had to _leap_ to get to the Gathering? What about cats like Cloudedeyes and Dragonheart, who either couldn't see the spurs or were too creaky of joint to jump for them?

His fear for the elders was instantly relieved. Lavastar guided Cloudedeyes herself, murmuring directions in the old she-cat's ear and making every jump with her. Wolfosclaw and Raggedstripe, two of the burlier warriors, followed close behind the two queens, ready to catch the elder should her old paws slip. As for Dragonheart...Link was surprised at how agile the old tomcat was. Liontail stayed at his side, but only for emotional support, it seemed. The sight of the grizzled gold-furred tom pouncing and swerving as nimbly as a cat half his age was incredible. _I guess MountainClan never loses their jumping ability,_ Link thought. For though her moves were carefully watched and guided, even Cloudedeyes was springing from spur to spur with a kind of creaky grace.

When his turn came to make the jumping climb to Fourstones, Link couldn't help feeling a little nervous. Now he knew why Lavastar had spent another full day training him in jumping exercises yesterday—he was expected to twist and leap without any cat to tell him what to do! He took a step back from the imposing wall, shoulders bristling anxiously. Did his mentor really think he was ready for this? As if sensing his worried thoughts, the unmistakable figure of the MountainClan leader appeared at the edge of the plateau, edged with moonlight. The young tabby could almost imagine the encouragement in her emerald eyes: _Come on, Link, don't back down from this!_

Swallowing the troubled heart hammering in his throat, the apprentice backed up and lunged, flinging his body at the first spur he saw. His landing was neat, relatively graceful; in a heartbeat, his paws had turned to the left and fired him towards the next stone. Cats were waiting on him—he had to move fast if he wanted to keep his friends. Crouching low, Link sprang at a crag to the right a mere tail-length above his head. No sooner did his feet his rock than his body twisted and sent him flying to a higher rock. His ricocheted leap was poorly calculated and left him scrabbling for purchase on the stony projection. Lavastar would not be pleased about that one, that was for sure. With worried thoughts of a day of rough training as punishment for his oversight, Link clawed his way to the flat top of the spur.

"You've done better than that one," Lavastar commented; at least she wasn't threatening him with more jumping exercises. "Come on—all the way! You don't need any cat's help."

His mentor's encouragement ringing in his ears, the golden tabby tom continued up the wall. He lunged for the next spur in the line. He planned this jump better, and as a result, his landing was much safer than the last. After that, Link's world became a rush of whirls and pounces, of claws scraping rock and pads scrubbing stone. It didn't take long for him to realize that some parts of the rock were smoother than others—MountainClan probably had a specific path they preferred to use. He tried to gauge the jumps between the smoother stones, whose worn edges could be seen in the white moonlight. Every pounce made him feel even more a part of his adopted Clan; he was leaping like the rest of them and using their path to Fourstones. He hardly noticed he'd reached the top until he was almost nose-to-nose with Lavastar. The rusty-ginger cat gave him a congratulatory lick behind the ears.

"You did well," she murmured, her praise, as usual, full of more meaning than it sounded. Link wanted to stay near her, but something in his mentor's green eyes told him she had business of her own to attend to. So, he merely nodded his thanks and stepped aside to let her pass by him. Then—after watching Ghostpaw make a tremendous leap from a spur almost three tail-lengths below the rim of the plateau, and after hauling Blazingpaw up by the scruff when she failed to make a jump—Link and the other apprentices trotted across the plateau to where Brownfur and Goronback waited.

The wide, grassy table was filled with cats, and the variety of scents that filled the air almost drowned Link. His eyes wide as a fish's, the young tom padded across the ground in awe. He knew he was not alone in his amazement; two small cats whose pelt smelled like the grass of FieldClan were huddled together nearby, mewing rapidly to each other in excitement. Blazingpaw kept letting out little gasps of wonder, and even Ghostpaw had a bounce in his step. The warm greenleaf night was filled with murmurs of cross-Clan friends sharing tongues, cries of greeting as warriors found each other, and rustling pelts pressing close.

"You three look like a bunch of moonstruck pikas," Goronback commented, wrinkling his nose in a friendly way. His long tail swept to the opposite edge of the plateau, where four rocks stood. They rose tall and jagged into the night, their surfaces made smooth by the silver glow from above. It was strange—though they were clearly four separate stones, they converged into a tall formation that gave them the appearance of being one. Two cats were already perched on a ledge halfway up the outcropping. As Link watched, Lavastar leapt up to join them, touching noses first with a white she-cat, then with a tawny tom.

"As you've probably guessed, that's where the leaders address the Clans," Brownfur explained. "Now, when Goronback and I were at our first Gathering, the leader of ForestClan was an old tomcat by the name of Maplestar. His deputy had just retired because of old age, and Maplestar had appointed a young queen called Dekuleaf to take his place."

Flicking his head towards the white she-cat atop the rock, Goronback murmured, "That's Dekustar. She became ForestClan's leader about a year ago, and from what I heard she's done a wonderful job. ForestClan is prospering."

Link's ears twitched curiously. "So the deputy succeeds the leader?" he mewed. He'd never really thought of it that way before, but it made sense.

"Yes," Brownfur replied. "You didn't know that? Well, it doesn't matter. You used to be a rogue, after all—Clan traditions probably seem a little strange to you at times." Shrugging lightly as if it were nothing to ruffle her fur over, she continued, "The brown tom standing beside Dekustar is the leader of FieldClan, Tawnystar. He's one of the older leaders—I think he's probably about Lavastar's age."

"Ah—quick, before he ducks back into the shadows!" Goronback jabbed a paw in the direction of the leaders' rock. Link saw a stocky, dust-colored tom padding out of the shadow of the stone. His fur was marked with tabby stripes that, in some places, gave the appearance of scorched bones. "That's Stalfospelt, the ForestClan deputy. Can't say as that I care much for him. He's grumpier than Tornear, seems like."

"Who's the FieldClan deputy?" Blazingpaw asked, looking around excitedly. Brownfur purred.

"Crowshadow is his name. He should be around here somewhere." She shrugged lightly. "Well, if I see him, I'll point him out to you. He's a gray tom with a dark patch of fur on his shoulders—pretty hard to mistake."

Link counted the cats atop the rock under his breath. "Shouldn't there be four?" he asked. Before any of the others could speak, he added, "FallsClan, right? They're the ones who are missing?"

"What's taking them?" Blazingpaw put in impatiently. "Isn't their camp just upriver, in the caves behind the Great Fall? They have the shortest journey out of all the Clans! They should be here first, shouldn't they?"

Brownfur looked confused and glanced around as if to ascertain for herself that one Clan was not in attendance. "It seems odd that FallsClan would be tardy," she mused. "I hope they haven't run into any trouble." Her pelt ruffled in a quick shiver. "The thought of a Clan meeting conflict in what should be a time of peace..."

"Only cats follow StarClan's truce," a new, low voice meowed behind Link. The tom whirled to find himself staring up at a long-legged brown cat. "The Tektite spiders, for one, don't listen to StarClan's decrees. Good to see you, Brownpaw, Goronpaw."

"Who is this Goronpaw of which you speak?" the pale tom demanded haughtily. The lean newcomer's eyes twinkled with amusement. "My name is _Goronback_. This is my sister, _Brownfur._"

"About time!" Turning his bright eyes to the three younger cats at his feet, the tom raised his brows. "New apprentices, I take it? I'm Grasswhisker, by the way. FieldClan, if you couldn't already scent that."

"Our first Gathering as apprentices was his first Gathering as a warrior," Brownfur explained calmly. "These monthly meetings really _are _a time to make friends in the other Clans—we've known Grasswhisker for ages."

Grasswhisker kneaded the ground distractedly. "I hope FallsClan arrives soon," he muttered. "I need to have a word with Reedtail about the spur of land that juts out over the river. It's _FieldClan _land and his patrols keep putting down their markers all over it!" His tail lashed in annoyance, whispering over the soft grass like a snake. "Well, I'm sure he has his reasons. Goronback, Sunleg was asking after you earlier—she's over there with the rest of her Clan."

Goronback gave a soft yowl of happiness and darted across the plateau. Stretching his neck around Grasswhisker's back, Link could see a creamy-white cat with pale ginger legs sitting off to the side. She was sharing tongues with a gray tabby, and at the sight of Goronback she leapt to her paws and pressed her flank against his.

"Sunleg of ForestClan," Brownfur told them simply. "She's mine and Goronback's age, but she was made a warrior long before we were." Something in her tone of voice suggested that Brownfur was not as fond of this she-cat as her brother was. However, her voice was friendly as usual as she meowed, "By the way, Grasswhisker, these new apprentices—"

"Ah, yes!" The FieldClan tom beamed down at them. "Your names?"

"I'm Blazingpaw!" The golden tabby queen stepped forward before either tom could open their mouth. Grasswhisker touched noses with her. Link raised a paw to also stand up, but surprisingly, Ghostpaw beat him to it.

"My name is Ghostpaw," he whispered, his voice as quiet as a mouse in a library. Grasswhisker touched noses with him as well.

Link gulped, hesitating before the tall cat. Only now did he realize just how different he truly was. If he gave his true name, Grasswhisker would know immediately that he was not Clanborn. What would this mild-mannered tomcat think of him then? Already, Link had seen that most warriors looked down upon any life that was not Clan. He gave Brownfur a quick glance, and saw that she was confused by his apparent shyness.

"Ah, this is—," she began, but the tabby tom cut her off gently.

"My name is Link," he mewed, pacing forward to stand in front of Grasswhisker. He watched the older tom's reaction carefully for any signs of scorn. Nothing. Only a sort of calm, puzzled expression. Clearly he was trying to work out how a Clan apprentice could have such a name. "I—I used to be a rogue," Link sputtered finally, praying that the brown tom would abide by the truce every cat spoke of.

It was a few moments before Grasswhisker spoke. "I'm sure Lavastar knows what she's doing," he meowed evenly. "You seem to be a good fit for MountainClan, though: good, strong legs and sturdy paws. I wish you the best in your training." He gave the group a parting nod. "Good to see you, Brownfur—and congratulations! Blazingpaw, Ghostpaw, Link—stay strong in your training. It may be difficult, but it's well worth it in the end." With that, he left to greet another group of cats.

Brownfur sighed. "I wish FallsClan would get here soon," she mewed. "They're one of our closer allies, and many of the cats are quite pleasant. Well, it doesn't matter. Let's go see what Goronback's up to."

When they approached, the light brown tom was chatting with the she-cat called Sunleg. He waved his tail in greeting. "That's the one I was telling you about," he meowed to the pale queen. "Link. He's the new apprentice. Blazingpaw—the she-cat who looks like she could be his littermate—found him at the end of our camp trail, and Lavastar took him in."

Sunleg nodded mildly in greeting. "We don't usually have rogues join Clans," she told him. "Most of them feel too restricted by all the rules we have. I hope you're different." Her amber eyes flicked up and down Link's gangly form, focusing particularly on his shoulders and tail. "You've got a handsome coat, you know."

"Eh...thank you," the young tom mumbled awkwardly, noting the intensity of Blazingpaw's green stare on Sunleg. He was reminded of Lavastar's words to him on their first day together: _You have lovely tabby stripes, you know. Groom that pelt properly, and you'll be a difficult cat to forget._ He stopped his paw just as it was rising to his muzzle for a self-conscious lick. How strange it felt, to be resisting the urge to wash! He'd spent so much of his life before leaving the Forest playing in the dirt and sticks. The day hadn't been complete unless one knee was scraped and the other grass-stained. Now cleaning up was hard to go _without_! Sunleg had risen and was now padding around him slowly, appraisingly, nodding at the neat patterns of stripes on the tom's back and legs. And Blazingpaw's eyes only grew wider by the second.

Fortunately, Link was spared further shame by a sudden outburst of yowls, both joyous and impatient. He whipped around in surprise, only to see a group of cats coming over the edge of the plateau. The cat in the lead, a small blueish queen whose fur was spattered with dark gray, broke off from the rest of the group and bounded towards the rocks. Brownfur let out a purr of relief. "Finally! FallsClan!" she whispered. "That's Splashstar, by the way. She's fairly young; I think she took over as leader a few moons before Dekustar did. Her deputy is a black tom by the name of Reedtail." Her eyes narrowed. "Strange...I can't seem to find him. I'm sure he'll turn up soon enough, though. I think you'd like Reedtail, Blazingpaw—he's a very energetic cat. Well, that should be all. Why don't you three find a group of apprentices and introduce yourselves?" Brownfur's eyes glimmered in the low light as she began to prowl across the plateau. "I need to have a word with dear Tallpaw over there."

Glancing around at the other two apprentice, Link shrugged and trotted towards a cluster of younger cats. Just as he approached, a brown tabby she-cat mewed, "I'm _telling _you, Ravenpaw, horses are dangerous! One of them almost crushed me while I was hunting outside the forest!"

A black tom, likely Ravenpaw, countered, "They're _not_, Dustpaw. Was it tied to a cart? When they're tied in, they only go where their Twolegs guide them." As the she-cat Dustpaw opened her mouth to protest, Ravenpaw added, "FieldClan knows. Our camp is close to the horseplace."

The tom—his fur brown with blue-gray streaks—beside Dustpaw twitched his ears. "He's right, you know."

"Oh, shut up, Creekpaw," Dustpaw hissed. "If we weren't at the Gathering, I'd give you a good one!" Short, thick claws slid from between her toes, their keen tips gleaming in the moonlight. Creekpaw, indignant at the threat, gathered himself up in preparation for the altercation close at paw.

Ravenpaw turned from the two verbally-scrapping ForestClan apprentices, his vivid blue eyes friendly. "Well, well—MountainClan!" he meowed. "All we need is a FallsClan apprentice or two, and we can have our own Gathering for apprentices only." Blazingpaw let out an amused _mrrow_ that seemed to distract Dustpaw and Creekpaw from their argument. Introductions were made once more; fortunately, the apprentices seemed much more accepting of Link's former life as a rogue (_If only they knew,_ the golden tom thought uneasily).

"It doesn't really matter where you started from," Ravenpaw had told him. "You're here now, doing everything we are. You're an apprentice, same as us. The only thing that's different is that you have an added incentive to excel; the Clan will feel less remorse if they have to drive out a former rogue than a Clanborn apprentice."

"Because that's really a sympathetic way of putting it," Dustpaw had retorted, sticking out her tongue at the black tom. Ravenpaw had regarded the gesture with a kind of aristocratic amusement before waving his tail at two more young cats whose fur smelled of clean water. Icepaw and Blackpaw of FallsClan joined the group without hesitation.

"Where's Reedtail?" Ravenpaw asked them. "I've been looking for him ever since your Clan arrived. Is he ill tonight?"

Icepaw—a blue-gray queen whose fur was so pale it almost looked white—and Blackpaw—a tiny white he-cat with black fur on his back and tail—looked at each other uneasily. "Splashstar said..." Icepaw began, but her voice trailed off miserably. She turned to Blackpaw, but the tom shook his head in silence. Link saw Ghostpaw press close to him comfortingly.

"If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine," Ravenpaw murmured. His ears pricked up. "Sounds like they're getting ready to start. Why don't we all sit together?"

"I see a spot close to the front!" Dustpaw pointed out, jabbing her tailtip in its direction. She and Creekpaw started towards it together, followed by the two FallsClan apprentices. Link turned to Ravenpaw expectantly. He had already developed a liking for the black tom, who seemed to be rather sensible and mature. Ravenpaw flicked his head for the three from MountainClan to go ahead of him. Just as they were all settling down in the soft grass, Tawnystar gave a loud yowl that silenced the dying murmurs as cats took their places.

"FieldClan would like to speak first," he meowed. "One of our queens, Whiteflower, has kitted. Both of her kits are strong, and will make fine warriors one day." A few scattered purrs of approval drifted up from the crowd. Link guessed Whiteflower was a popular she-cat. "StarClan has also blessed us with a new warrior: Hawkflight." Tawnystar nodded as a handsome red-brown tom rose to his feet. A few cats called out the warrior's new name in tribute, as if making up for the fact that they had missed out on doing so during his ceremony.

"MountainClan would like to speak next," Lavastar purred, stepping forward as Tawnystar stepped back. "It's good that FieldClan is prospering, Tawnystar. MountainClan has both good and sad news to bring. One of our elders, Redflower, was called to join StarClan in her sleep a few nights after the last Gathering. However, MountainClan was blessed with two new warriors! Brownpaw and Goronpaw both received their warrior names a few days ago, and are now Brownfur and Goronback." Again, cats yowled the siblings' new names. Lavastar waited for the cheers to die down before speaking again. "We have also taken on a former rogue as an apprentice—I am currently mentoring him myself. His name is Link, and he is here tonight."

At Lavastar's tail-flick, the golden tabby tom stood. Silence covered the plateau for a heartbeat before the whispers broke out. Every shining eye in the clearing turned to him; some held approval, others distrust. Link gazed around, tailtip jerking awkwardly, then returned his attention to his mentor. Lavastar nodded, and he sat back down again. No sooner did his haunches touch grass than both Blazingpaw and Ravenpaw, who were sitting on either side of him, pressed their flanks against his own in support. "Thanks," he whispered in the barest of mews.

"ForestClan is also doing well." Dekustar's voice cut through the murmurs, and heads turned from Link to her. "A couple of apprentices decided to venture into the Ancient Twolegplace and had a _wonderful _adventure with a young Wolfos." As she spoke, her leaf-green eyes were centered firmly of Creekpaw and Dustpaw, who sat with lowered heads and tightly-shut eyes. "The sunhigh patrol heard them yowling for help and was able to drive the pup off. We were fortunate that they were unharmed." The white cat stepped back, nodding to Splashstar.

"If you two did something that _stupid_, why were you allowed to come to the Gathering tonight?" Ravenpaw hissed curiously to the two shamefaced apprentices. "If I were in your place, Tawnystar would have had me cleaning the elders' den for moons!"

"She probably had us come just so she could tell every cat what we did," Creekpaw mewed. Beside him, Dustpaw looked as though she wanted the grassy ground to swallow her up then and there. Public humiliation was clearly punishment enough for the two young cats. Blazingpaw opened her mouth to comment, but Ravenpaw flicked his tailtip across her muzzle. Splashstar, who had hesitated at first, was now ready to speak.

The bluish queen jumped as if startled, then padded forward slowly. "I have been asked, and no doubt the cats I brought here tonight have been asked, many times about the whereabouts of Reedtail," she mewed quietly. "There is a reason why he is not with us tonight." Her tail rose up, slowly as a seed sprouting, and pointed to the brightest star in the sky above. A few cats gasped. "He watches us from StarClan."

At her words, several voices were raised in chilling wails of grief. Ravenpaw gave a choked gasp and pushed his nose into the two FallsClan apprentices' pelts sympathetically. Link looked around the plateau, thoroughly bewildered by the sights around him. Hadn't Lavastar told him that his loyalty and devotion should belong to MountainClan and MountainClan alone? He saw cats who were not from Reedtail's Clan yowling in sorrow at the news of his death—should _their_ loyalty be called to question? Reedtail, whoever he was, must have been well-liked and respected for his death to have caused such an uproar. Cats were moving to offer their sympathies to FallsClan cats. The sound of sad cries reached an almost deafening pitch before Lavastar let out a thunderous caterwaul.

"Let Splashstar speak!" the rusty queen snarled, her shoulders bristling. "She's been trying to get a word in edgewise!"

Splashstar dipped her head to the MountainClan leader before addressing the assembled cats, who had all fallen silent once more. "Early yesterday morning, one of Snowfoot's kits, Dropkit, ventured too close to the edge of our camp. She slipped on some moss and plunged into the waterfall. Reedtail"—she gulped—"Reedtail went after her, and managed to save her...but at the cost of his own life."

"Reedtail had been her deputy since before I was born," Ravenpaw whispered to the three MountainClan apprentices beside him. His pale blue eyes were wide with disbelief. "I can't begin to imagine what it's like for FallsClan to have lost him."

"Awful," mewed Icepaw, staring blankly ahead. "His apprentice, Tallpaw, was hit hardest, I think—harder than Splashstar, even. She hasn't eaten since his vigil. We were late tonight because she passed out and almost fell into the river on the journey here."

"The new deputy of FallsClan," Splashstar continued, "is Zorafin. I know that Reedtail would be proud to see her take his place as deputy." She nodded to the sleek, pale gray she-cat who had stood up. Zorafin's eyes flicked nervously from cat to cat, as if she didn't know what to make of the attention she was receiving. "Reedtail was a dedicated mentor to a young she-cat by the name of Tallpaw. We had planned for her to receive her warrior name yesterday, and it was almost forgotten in our grieving. She is now Tallreed, a name she chose herself to honor her mentor's memory."

Every cat raised their voice to salute the new warrior. Tallreed, a brown queen with legs that made Link's look downright proportional, nodded her thanks distractedly. Even where he was sitting, the golden tabby tom could see the raw pain in her eyes. She kept glancing up at the North Star, as if she expected to see Reedtail's face beaming encouragement down at her. Though he felt bad for even thinking it, Link was glad that Lavastar was Clan leader—according to Blazingpaw, his mentor would have to die _nine times_ at least before she would leave him.

None of the leaders moved to end the Gathering, but Link hardly minded. He padded forward and touched noses with Icepaw and Blackpaw. "I never knew Reedtail," he meowed gently, "but I know that it hurts to lose a friend. I'm so sorry." To his surprise, Icepaw flung herself at him and pressed her face against his shoulder. Temporarily at a loss for what to do, the young tom stroked his paw down her flank gently, purring to soothe her. He felt the warm pelts of Blazingpaw and Ravenpaw press up around him. Pricking up his narrow ears, he heard Ghostpaw and the two ForestClan apprentices moving in to comfort Blackpaw.

Though he had never met Reedtail, the deputy's sudden death had shocked him and made him realize just how harsh the world could be for a cat. Also startling was how quickly the other Clans moved to comfort each other. Was the Gathering truce taken so seriously that normal Clan boundaries were thrown utterly by the wayside? Or was it more closely linked to his first thought? He couldn't recall seeing a warrior tonight who didn't have _some_ kind of battle scar on their body. Hyrule was a rough enough place for a Twoleg—to be a small cat probably made it all the more dangerous. Was the tide of support brought on by Reedtail's passing really more of a commiseration—cats realizing that sorrow could very well fall on them tomorrow, and the more sympathetic they were, the more sympathy they'd receive?

A paw prodding his back brought Link back to the present. He pulled back from Icepaw to see Lavastar standing behind him. The ginger queen's eyes were kind. "I'm sorry your first Gathering had to be full of so much sadness," she meowed. "But you seem to have made several good friends tonight." She twitched her tail. "We're trying to get the rest of the Clan together to leave—it's a long journey back tom camp."

Hesitantly, Link gave Icepaw a parting lick on the cheek. The pretty she-cat nodded. "I guess I'll see you around, Link," she mewed shyly. The tom nodded resolutely, then turned to Ravenpaw.

"Nice meeting you," the black cat purred, eyes glowing with a friendly light. "I hope we meet again. I should probably find Crowshadow and my mentor, Brindletail." One icy blue eye shut in a wink before the genial tom darted off across the grass.

Creekpaw and Dustpaw, both of whom still looked incredibly subdued at having their escapade related to the whole Gathering, murmured something about finding the rest of their Clan as well. Link couldn't help feeling sad to watch them go; he was hoping to spend more time with these other young cats, to get to know them better. _There will be other Gatherings,_ he told himself as he padded after Lavastar. He couldn't help admiring how neatly her muscles moved under her pelt, and how softly the moonlight shone down on her. He'd been lucky to be apprenticed to such a cat, that was for sure. As if sensing his thoughts, Lavastar turned and gave him a gentle lick behind the ears.

"I was proud of you tonight," she murmured. "You held your ground bravely when the others turned to look at you. You're becoming more and more like a warrior with each passing day, Link. I want you to know that."

Her words rang through his mind throughout the entire journey back to camp; never once did they lose their meaning, as repeated words so often do. He was brave. Lavastar was proud. That was all that mattered to him tonight.


	10. Chapter 8

The mouse's nose twitched as she paused briefly in nibbling the nut in her paws. She seemed to sense that something was amiss in the world around the tree roots, but the breeze in her face brought no scent of danger. The sky was clear and the air warm; a day like this couldn't possibly hold any threat. Shaking herself briskly, the little rodent returned her focus to her nut, gnawing at the tough shell doggedly. _Scrape, scrape, scrape—crunch!_ She froze again, her soft pink ears stiffening warily. Nutshells did not make a dry, brittle crunch when they were being chewed. But the midday air was silent, and after a few moments, the mouse returned to her meal. _Scrape, scrape—crunch! crunch!_

Fearfully, the mouse whirled around just in time to see the golden-striped body of a cat hurtling towards her. She tossed the nut carelessly to the side and darted into her burrow at the roots of the tree. The light from the nest-hole was blocked out by a huge paw as the hunter made one last attempt at its prey. A pause. An angry spit. The entrance of the nest was unblocked, and the cat's paws crunched on the dry grass as it padded away slowly.

**

* * *

**

"Almost had it!" Link snarled under his breath, lashing out angrily at the prickly stems of grass that had alerted his prey. Two weeks had passed since the Gathering, and in that span of time not a drop of rain had fallen. It looked like Hyrule would be suffering through another dry spell. "If it would just rain, maybe the field wouldn't be so dry, and I could actually hunt here today!"

As he padded away from the tree, Link paused at the edge of the stone wall. He was hesitating, just as he had been instructed by many cats, before moving out into more open ground. A furtive glance to both sides—which quickly turned into a long stare when his eyes turned to Kakariko—was all it took to stop his thoughts of seeking out more prey. His tense shoulders dropped, only to stiffen once again in suspense.

Link felt his heart begin to race at the sights and sounds and scents that seemed to flow out from the village. Though they were things he had known well as a Hylian, they seemed to strike him anew at that moment. Burly carpenters darting back and forth: Their hearty grunting and the stinging reek of their sweat. Children screaming with laughter as they played: The fresh odor of the crushed grass smeared on their knees and the soles of their bare feet. Bread baking: The clang of pans and the humming of the woman baking it. He stood now at the brink not only of the forbidden—_Lavastar would have my tail if she got wind I'd explored Twolegplace,_ he thought—but also of the exciting. His paws were itching to carry him into the heart of it all.

The young tabby tom glanced swiftly up at the blue sky over his head, and at the blazing eye of the sun that hung there. _I'm supposed to be back at camp by sunset,_ he reminded himself. _If I'm not, Lavastar will probably send a patrol out to look for me—and they'll know I paused here for so long, and if I went into the village._ The thought of the punishment he would receive for entering Twolegplace (and not only that, but also the hurt that would surely appear in his mentor's green eyes) made him flinch unconsciously. As thrilling as it would be, he couldn't risk damaging his already somewhat-tenuous relationship with the cats of MountainClan.

It was as he was padding back towards the river that temptation showed Link's mind a new possibility. Kakariko, he knew, was certainly no stranger to mice and birds; in fact, the prey there would probably be much fatter than whatever he would find out on field or mountain. The mice there lived a sheltered life, full of food stolen from kitchens and cellars, with their only fear being the occasional kittypet. _Specifically, I'm forbidden to eat food given to me by Twolegs,_ the golden tabby reasoned with himself. _I don't see why I wouldn't be allowed to _catch_ food around their territory. It's a pretty rational train of thought, once you think about it: Prey there would be easier to catch, and more rewarding, too._ He glanced at the sky again. _Besides, I'll be in and out in plenty of time. I'll just have to remember to wash the smell of the village out of my fur before I head back to camp._

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Link lowered his body into a compact crouch and began to slink, paw by paw, into the village. He kept his flank pressed firmly against the wall, not only for protection, but as a way to steady his nervously trembling shoulders. Something, some niggling feeling of guilt, threatened to send him fleeing from Twolegplace in panic. Though he had only the best intentions, he wasn't entirely sure if this was the right thing to do. However, despite his misgivings, prowling through Twolegplace seemed like, if nothing else, a grand adventure. _I'm going to hunt for the Clan,_ he reminded himself, hoping to bolster his pro-Kakariko argument. _It shouldn't matter where I go to do it, as long as I don't get myself into danger or wind up on another Clan's land._

For all his stealthy creeping, the young tomcat found that once he was past the stone gate of the village, he was basically exposed to the world. Not only had the grass been trimmed to practically whisker-height, but it was also greener than the yellow of Hyrule Field. He was probably as well camouflaged as a black cat in a blizzard—and the fact that he could see a group of young Twolegs playing mere tail-lengths away did his anxieties no good. Link spotted a row of hedges, mercifully close, and bolted towards the safety of their leafy arms. Mid-stride, he heard an excited burst of cries and realized that he had been spotted; the young Twolegs were hot on his paws. Longer and longer he stretched his legs, praying that he would be tangled up in the bushes—roughed-up, but safe from capture—before any of this eager pursuers caught up to him. His luck held, and even stretched a little longer; behind the bushes was a small hollow in the rock, into which the leggy tabby eagerly squeezed himself. He watched, gasping for breath, as the group of Twoleg kits struggled to reach through the brush to grab him.

Heartbeats later, he heard the angry yowl of an older Twoleg, followed quickly by the pattering of the youngsters' feet as they fled. Link's heart was still hammering in his throat, its frantic pounding flooding his ears. The acrid, stinging, shameful stench of his own fear filled the tiny crevice in the stone. His paws were jerking and trembling fiercely at the ends of his legs as he tried frantically to piece the past few seconds together in his mind. He'd been chased, and had holed himself up in what he could only hope was a safe haven. He'd obviously been saved by the older Twoleg's appearance, but how could he know for sure if this strange animal was to be trusted? How would he know when it was safe for him leave?

As the smell of his own fear began to fade, Link realized that he could still smell the older Twoleg, quite strongly. As the throbbing of his heart died from his ears, he could hear its soft breathing outside the bushes. Was it...waiting for him to come out? To protect him from further chasing? To chase him itself? Or was it just standing guard, as if he were some kind of prisoner? Slowly, Link began to untangle himself from his cramped position in the shallow crevice, and in an act of daring he poked his face between a gap in the bushes.

The instant he laid eyes on it, Link was struck by an incredible sense of familiarity—he had seen this particular Twoleg before. The memory came slowly; when it did, it seemed so distant that he thought at first it came from a dream—his hunting expedition with Brownfur and Goronback. The Twoleg's head-fur was white as the Moon, tied back in a sleek bunch that fell across the back of her neck. Her eyes, which were currently focused on the clear sky above the village, were bright red, like the light that came from the crater tunnel. Her furless skin was smooth and creamy-pale. The pelt she wore was like nothing Link had ever seen her kind wear; it clung tightly to her muscular body as if it were a second skin. Something about her scent—ancient beyond all Time, darker than a moonless night—drew the young tom irresistibly closer to her. As the first of his paws left the shelter of the bushes, the old Twoleg's head snapped over to gaze down at him in one sleek, swift movement. Her red eyes locked with his blue.

Link felt his muscles turn to ice, and he let out a sharp gasp at the overall fluidity of motion that her seemingly ancient body possessed. Now that he was close enough to touch her, the tabby tom realized that he did not merely know this Twoleg from seeing her on the mountain a half-moon ago. He remembered her scent, the darkness of which even his Hylian nose had picked up traces. In the silence that stretched between them, he whispered the word that he knew to be her name: "Impa?"

Impa's eyes widened in surprise, only to darken in confusion a second later. Her thin, silver eyebrows slanted down suspiciously. Link swallowed before he mewed in a louder voice, "It—It's me...Link."

To his surprise, the Sheikah nodded. "Yes, I recognized you by your voice," she murmured. Seeing the young tom's bewilderment, she added, "You're speaking Hylian, by the way. Come out. You're safe now—at least, _I_ don't see any immediate threat to your life." She watched as the golden tabby cat stepped warily out from the cluster of bushes that had protected him. A sharp glint of amusement appeared in her ruby-red eyes. "I didn't think I would have to tell _you_ about leaving the apothecary hag alone. What did you do to earn _this_ curse, lad?"

"It's not a curse," Link told her. "I was called by StarClan, and they gave me this cat body." He watched the playful light die from her eyes like smoke dissolving in the rain and wondered what it was he had said that bothered her. He waited for a response—a question, an expression of disbelief, anything!—but received none. Instead, Impa pushed herself to her feet and motioned for her to follow him. Clearly, their conversation was one that should not be carried out where they could be seen talking. Link padded close by the woman's side as she slipped into the shadows behind her own home. Once there, the Sheikah leaned back against the wall and folded her arms over her chest.

"I'm not even going to ask who or what this 'StarClan' of which you speak is," she began in a low, serious voice. "Though it seems important for me to know, there are other things that I must say first. I think I should start by saying how glad I am to see you alive and in one piece. These past few months have been very difficult on me; as the only Sage able to reasonably travel across Hyrule, it is my responsibility to ascertain that the Hero of Time is safe wherever he goes."

"I haven't been far," Link explained, sitting down and curling his tail over his paws as he spoke. "I've been living with MountainClan—a group of wildcats—up on Death Mountain." He hesitated. "Wait—did you say you're..._responsible_ for me?"

Impa paused thoughtfully, her gaze on him never wavering for an instant. After a moment, she nodded. "Yes," she said. "I would follow a trail of your life-force and keep tabs on wherever you went. Thank the Three, for most of your life you've been a smart enough lad to keep yourself out of any trouble that would require my intervention. However, recently, there was something that bothered me greatly." Her stare grew even more intense than before. "Nearly two months ago, I discovered that I had lost your trail entirely. It did not lead out of Hyrule, or to any place within our land. It had vanished entirely. You were gone, and I hadn't the first idea of where to look to find you."

Link frowned. "Didn't you just finish saying that I'm smart enough to stay out of real trouble?" he asked. Impa nodded fairly. "Well, why worry?"

"Ganondorf."

"Ganondorf?" Link echoed curiously, the desert name rolling off his feline tongue in a smooth tumble. He cocked his head back proudly. "Why are you worrying about him, Impa? He was sealed away by the Sages' power—_your_ power!" The young tom held his confident pose for a few heartbeats before he realized that the Sheikah did not share his conviction. Her lips were pursed tightly, and she was shaking her head.

"He _was_, Link," she admitted softly. "But a few days before you vanished from under my watch, so did he. None of us"—Link knew she spoke for all the Sages—"knew how he managed to free himself from his bonds, but he did. I was charged with tracking him down and recapturing him. But just before I lost your trail—almost a matter of _hours _before, actually—I also lost any trace of Ganondorf's trail." She sighed. "I spent a full day searching your house for even the smallest sign of a struggle, the tiniest drop of blood—anything to suggest you had crossed paths. But his trail ended at the Death Mountain Crater, and your trail never left your bed. It was as if both of you had simply ceased to exist."

Link dropped his head shamefully. He felt that there had to have been _something_ he could have done to let Hyrule's guardian spirits know where he was going; but what it was, he did not know. Impa continued, seemingly without noticing his guilty heart, "We've met with the Three in the Sacred Realm many times since your disappearance, and each meeting is more frantic than the last. When it was found I could no longer see where you had gone, Saria volunteered to search for you."

The golden head snapped up at the mention of the Kokiri girl. "Saria?"

"She's very worried," the Sheikah informed him. "She thought that since you two shared such close a friendship, she would be able to find you through that bond. Nothing. Darunia thought that because of your connection as Sworn Brothers, he could seek you out—he failed. Ruto, because of her love for you—she failed. Nabooru, because of her debts to you—another failure. Rauru, because no one else could—the final failure. Every Sage has sought you, and all have come back without so much as a single clue to your whereabouts."

Link heaved himself to his feet and began to pace. Some mornings, he woke up feeling so at home that he swore he had been born in MountainClan. Now, with each passing second, he was becoming more and more aware of the life he had once led—his life as Hero of Time. Names flared up in his mind, bright as fire, against the familiar background of his Clan life. Saria. Nabooru. Darunia. Rauru. Ruto. Impa. He paused, one foot in the air. Were the names of the Goddesses still there, buried beneath the overwhelming pile of Clan law, Clan names, Clan ritual—Clan, Clan, Clan! He racked his mind and heart, hoping that he had not pushed the Ones he served out of his life. Impa clearly noticed his inner conflict, but she did not remark on it. Finally, after much pacing and frowning, Link turned back to her.

"Farore," he blurted out, grateful that at least one of their names had returned to him. "And the rest of her sisters. Din. Nayru. Wouldn't they be able to see me? After all, their watch is absolute—they see everything there is in Hyrule."

"And that's where things get difficult," Impa answered dully. "We _thought_ they were able to see all. Now, however, it seems that two things are able to evade their gazes: Ganondorf, and you."

Link felt his hackles rise and his tail start to bristle. His ears pressed flat to the sides of his head; his lips parted in an angry snarl. "The _Three_ can't even see me?" he howled in disbelief. Impa's body gave a small jerk at his yowl; she was still as stone for a heartbeat before releasing a silent sigh. The tabby tom began to pace yet again, his banded tail lashing in irritation. "How could I have gone beyond the sight of the _Goddesses?_ I'm still in Hyrule—never left it, to the best of my knowledge!"

"It doesn't make any more sense to me than to you," the Sheikah pointed out, somewhat sharply. "But _do_ keep your voice to a reasonable level, Link. I took us back here so that the people of Kakariko would be spared the knowledge that the legendary Hero of Time is now a gangly tabby cat." She knelt down and rested her long-fingered hand on his shoulders to settle him. Link quivered at her touch, but she kept her hand firm. "Your anger is understandable, but it is misguided. It is not the fault of the Sages or the Three that you momentarily vanished from our sight; perhaps it has something to do with your feline form. No one is at fault here, not to my reasoning."

Link heaved a sigh and shifted his eyes away from hers. He knew he had lost his temper with the Shadow Sage, and he could not bring himself to meet her gaze. He murmured a quiet apology for his actions. He heard Impa's sigh, felt the breeze of it ruffle the soft fur on his ears.

"Our only concern is for your safety," she murmured in a gentle voice. One of her fingers reached up and stroked the top of the former Hylian's head lightly. "Perhaps I could not find you because I was searching for a Hylian, which you no longer are."

Link jerked his head up suddenly. "A few weeks ago, I saw you on the Death Mountain Trail," he spluttered. Impa nodded.

"Darunia said he combed the mountain looking for you, but that he could not—for his peoples' sake, you understand—search the Dodongo Caverns."

The tomcat let out an amused _mrrow_. "If you'd only looked up, Impa, you would have seen me!" he mewed. "MountainClan lives on the side of Death Mountain—our territory covers the whole thing, too. That's where I'd be, if you ever needed to find me." The Sheikah smiled faintly and nodded. Then, her face grew serious again.

"This whole time we've been speaking, I've been trying to see you through the eyes of a protective Sage," she confessed. "I must tell you: I can't, not even for an instant. I hear your voice and see your face—but for all I can tell, you could very well be a cat who's learned to speak Hylian." She turned her eyes upward, to the smoke-ringed peak of the mountain. "I sense no evil surrounding your transformation, only an unfamiliar power. Power can be dangerous in and of itself, but when it is of unknown origin we must be all the more careful. You say a 'StarClan' gave you this form?"

"Yes," Link replied. "They're kind of like the wildcats of Hyrule's gods and goddesses. Apparently, I've been chosen to save the Clans—those cats—and the way to do it was to join them as a cat."

"Gods and goddesses?" Impa repeated.

"Well, that's how one of them described it to me," Link admitted, remembering the blue she-cat. "StarClan protects the cats, bless them, care for them...Do you know, the cats even take the name of StarClan in vain like Hylians do the Goddesses'!"

Impa gave a short, soft laugh at this, her crimson eyes focused on some distant idea. Her smile slowly melted away, to be replaced by a serious line. Clearly, something Link had said had resonated with her, though just what the apprentice was unsure. He watched her face for any look of comprehension, some sign that she had pulled whatever faraway thought she had been watching closer to her. Impa sighed, removed her hand from his back, and stood up. Her eyes were sympathetic as they met his.

"I think it's only fair to warn you of something, Link," she said in a low, serious tone of voice. Each word was carefully measured, as if she wanted to put the exact same amount of meaning into every piece of her sentences. "When you lived under the Goddesses' eyes, they protected you fiercely. You were, in a sense, immortal—like the proverbial nine-lived cat. Your destiny was not fully played out yet, and the Three were determined to keep you in this frame of being until it was—by hook or by crook. That explains why you have, in the past, survived injuries and falls and all variety of things that would have killed a lad like you."

Link nearly lost his footing at the revelation. He thought of all the times when he knew he should have, by all rights, been dead. Going down under the claws of a mob of Stalchilds and finding the strength to limp, bloody and battered, three miles to the Ranch. Falling from the battlement of Hyrule Castle to land in the courtyard below and walking away with nothing more than a sore ankle. Slipping from the bridge in the Gerudo Valley, going under the roaring waves, and miraculously regaining consciousness on the shore of Lake Hylia. Being knocked into the lava of the Crater to land, inexplicably, on a stone in the middle of the molten rock just large enough for his own two feet. Impa continued, her voice as calm and even as ever, "You survived because you were needed. The Three watched out for you on your quest, and protected you whenever your life was in peril. But all of this would only come to pass if they could see you to save you."

"So I'm on my own," the lean cat meowed, somewhat dubiously. Impa sighed.

"You are on your own in the worst of ways," she informed him sadly. "I fear for you, Link. Ganondorf is just as invisible to us as you are—he could very well be lying in wait for you, hoping to end your meddling in his affairs once and for all! And perhaps the worst of it is that, should this be the case, none of us could protect you." Link shuddered as what he was being told finally sunk in. "I know. It's a rather grim portrait, and I'm sorry for having shown it to you—but I need you to understand something, Link. You could be in terrible danger, on your own and without divine aid."

Link bowed his head in silence, as if the full weight of his new knowledge were slowly dragging him to the ground. Impa sighed softly. "But _I _haven't given up on you," she told him sternly. "I said earlier that you've proven yourself smart enough to stay out of mortal peril _far _better than the average warrior who's had destiny thrust upon them—and your situation may not even be all that bad. Ganondorf might not know you live as a cat; if that is the case, he probably won't be able to find you." She knelt down and placed a finger under Link's muzzle, raising his eyes to meet her own. "I will do my best to watch you, now that I know what shape you live in and where you will be spending your time. But you must be careful yourself. Trust your instincts, and do not hesitate to seek me out here if you are afraid. I will guard your life with my own." She smiled, a little grimly. "That _is_ my task, after all."

Her offer of protection was tempting, but as hard as it was to turn down, Link knew he had to. He gave his paw a nervous lick and scrubbed his face with the backside of it distractedly. "It's kind of you to say that," he mewed, "but I can't accept that offer, Impa. My place is with MountainClan. You spoke of destiny earlier—I think some part of my destiny lies with them." He paused. "However, if anything _does _come up, can I count on you for guidance?"

The Sheikah nodded. "Of course."

"Thank you." Lowering his dusty paw back to the ground, Link cast another glance at the sky. He needed to set out now if he wanted to bring down enough prey to make Lavastar happy—not to mention the tedious business of washing the smell of Twolegplace out of his fur. "I should probably be going now."

"I will escort you from the village myself," Impa said, pushing herself to her feet with ease. Together, the unusual pair of lanky cat and sleek Sheikah headed toward the stone gate. "It's good to know you are still alive. The others will be relieved to know that you've been found, too. Who knows"—she cast around to see if anyone was within hearing range—"perhaps the Three will be able to see you now."

"And if they can't?" the tom queried hesitantly.

Impa hummed thoughtfully. "Then I suppose we will just have to place your life in the hands—or paws, as the case may be—of StarClan." The MountainClan tom nodded in agreement, although he could tell from the tone of her voice and the look in her eyes that it was not an option she favored.

It was at the gate that Link surrendered himself to a feline impulse. Without thinking why it was a good idea, the young tabby rubbed his cheek against Impa's shin. He padded forward and let his flank rub up against her leg; before he knew it, he was weaving back and forth, brushing his pelt over her calves. The Sheikah laughed aloud at the sight and knelt to give the former Hylian a parting stroke. "Be careful, will you?" she asked, tugging one of Link's long ears in a playful, almost motherly, fashion. "Don't get too adjusted to this cat life, either. Once you've served your duty to these Clans, the rest of Hyrule may need you back." Link nodded, and after one last cheek-rub, he left, racing towards the open field as fast as his paws could carry him.

* * *

Once he reached the bank of the river, the tom skidded to a stop and studied his reflection carefully in the calm water. He sought anything—a glint in the eyes, a turn of the face—that would reveal who he truly was: a Hylian. But, try as he might, Link could see nothing but a handsome young cat, an apprentice warrior of MountainClan. No Hylian had a tabby pelt, or ears that were covered in fine fur. No Hylian had a soft, pink nose, or whiskers, or a tail that curled out behind their body. They walked on two legs, not four. Their steps were loud and heavy, not smooth and graceful. They killed their meat with tools their own hands had made, not claws and fangs their ancestors had grown over generations. Link, who had been studying himself from the side, sat down with a quiet sigh. His mind was a vicious, confusing whirl of past, present, and future. Who guided his paws—StarClan, or the Three?

At first, Link had clung to the Goddesses like a burr. Like his name, they were one of the few things he had left of his old life; to forget them would be like losing a part of that past. But, as time had worn on, he found it so much easier to accept StarClan as his protectors—to place his life in their paws, as the Clans said. Oaths like _Great StarClan!_ came to him as naturally as breathing now; never once did he invoke the names of the Three. He could recite the warrior code from memory, and find meaning in every word he spoke. He could easily subdue Blazingpaw in their mock battles, and was almost as good a hunter as Ghostpaw. He never felt lacking in his days, except when cats like Swoopingclaw openly mocked him. Living as a Clan cat had given him such a wonderful sense of family that he had been perfectly content to forget his days of being shunned by the Kokiri.

But having spoken with Impa, Link was painfully reminded of the life he had once lived. He had grown up on stories from the Great Deku Tree, stories of creation, of life, of love, of power, wisdom, courage. It seemed so hard to believe that the Goddesses in those legends were still alive and present—and trying to care for Hyrule and for him! Though he had forgotten them, the keepers of the Sacred Realm had certainly _not _forgotten him. The Sages were his friends—all of them. The Goddesses had saved his life time and time again. He couldn't help feeling a little guilty at how carelessly he had tossed his old beliefs aside in lieu of the new ones.

He had a choice to make: Should he stay with StarClan, or try his hardest to return to the Three? His heavy paws sunk silently into the soft sand at the river's edge as he began to pace in thought. The Three watched over all of Hyrule, that was sure—but did they also watch out for the Clans? Did they work in some kind of divine partnership with StarClan? Link stopped, frowning impatiently. He glanced around the quiet field and mewed under his breath, "Whoever is watching me—send me a sign! I need to know what's right."

He waited for what seemed like ages, but neither a heavenly cat nor an unearthly woman appeared to him. As he sat in the early afternoon sun, the tabby began to wash, hoping to rid his pelt of the clinging reek of Twolegplace. The rhythmic motion soothed his irritated mind, and he eagerly lost himself in the steady, familiar activity. After a number of compliments at the Gathering, Link felt he had become a little vain about the state of his fur, often settling down to wash three or four times a day—the same as most cats, he failed to realize. He ran his tongue up and down the length of each gangly limb, between his pudgy toes...He almost wished he had another cat here to help him with his back. Shrugging nonchalantly, the young cat twisted himself around to groom. A soft, warm breeze rippled his whiskers, bringing the smell of some herb to his nose.

Sage.

Curious, Link abandoned his washing and followed the scent until he found the bush. It lay near the head of one of MountainClan's mountain-to-field trails, its gray-green leaves rustling in the light wind. The golden tabby stuck his nose into the fragrant plant, inhaling deeply to calm himself down. His mind began wandering, and he wondered if this could possibly be the sign he'd asked for. But if that was the case, did that mean that the Three were speaking to him? After all, they sent him to find a sagebush...Sage. Sage. Sage like Impa. Sage like Saria. Retracting his face from the aromatic leaves, Link ran his tongue over his muzzle. He marveled at how well he could taste the sage as he licked his whiskers. It really was a tasty, fragrant plant—he contemplated chewing the leaves to wash the taste of Kakariko from his mouth. But, really, the flavor of sage was already coating his whiskers, so he could probably get away with just—

_Sagewhisker!_

Medicine cats were StarClan's voice to the living, weren't they?

Impa had said that the Three were unable to see him. Link began to wonder if perhaps both beliefs were valid...depending on the species of the believer. What if the Three watched over all of Hyrule, but gave the cats to StarClan to protect? Or, maybe StarClan simply claimed the cats as their own, and the Three were left with all the rest of the beings of Hyrule? Either way, Link was fairly sure who would have the most influence in his life now. His Goddesses couldn't see him to protect him. He was a cat, somehow invisible to them—but not to StarClan. The Three were real, this he knew...but maybe they weren't _as_ real to him now as they used to be. The golden tom gazed up at the bright, clean sky above him, blue eyes narrowed in thought. He made up his mind for the most part, although he did leave opportunity for change in the future should situations shift.

For here and for now, Link would follow whatever path StarClan led him down.


	11. Chapter 9

As he neared the entrance of MountainClan's rock-walled camp, Link felt the fierce burn of eyes on the back of his neck, their seeking glare stabbing like needles in his mind. The muscles in his lean legs stiffened unconsciously. His heart, which was already beating hard from his climb up the side of the mountain, began to thump even more strongly in his chest. The golden tabby tomcat carefully set down the two sparrows and pika he had been carrying, his dark blue eyes narrowing to sapphire slits. The yellow fur on his shoulders began to prickle and stiffen, and his tail also started fluffing out. His stomach churned; his breathing turned to rapid, fearful pants.

Though he had felt these eyes before, it seemed to him that this time they were searching him. Link swore he could feel their red, fiery fingers stroking the back of his mind—probing, seeking, questioning. His heart hammered faster and faster, and the stinging bile of fear rose up in the back of his throat. The young cat felt paralyzed, as though whoever was watching him had gripped him in their talons and was holding him down for interrogation. His legs locked, his unsheathed claws gripped the dry ground at his paws. He could scarcely breathe. All the while, the eyes burned through his fur, and the flames they had started in his brain spread out far and wide. Terror and confusion rooted him to the spot, but his paralysis was broken by a whispered question that hissed through his ears like a desiccating wind:

_Who are you?_

Almost as if the voice had ordered him to run rather than asked his identity, Link suddenly found his paws at the end of his legs. He grabbed his catches in eager teeth and bolted towards the camp, not stopping until his hind paws had passed through the thorn barrier. A few of the cats that were sharing tongues in the afternoon sun turned to stare at him strangely. Sighing, Link realized how foolish he must have seemed, darting stiff-furred into the sheltered camp as though a passel of enemy warriors were on his heels. He offered the watching cats a sheepish duck of his head before dropping his catches on the fresh-kill pile. He felt their eyes follow him as he padded up the trail to the medicine cat's den, but after his most recent brush with his mysterious watcher, their gazes felt as cool and welcome as a drink of water on a hot day.**

* * *

**

"Sagewhisker, may I speak with you?"

The pretty brown she-cat's head turned in Link's direction curiously as his words bounced off the walls of her cave. She had been herding a pile of small, brown seeds into one of the many niches in the wall when he approached, and with one last pat, she completed the task. Her bright eyes flicked in the tabby tom's direction briefly before she mewed, "Not at this precise moment, but if you're willing to wait, then yes." She flicked her tail in the direction of a small hollow in the floor.

Obediently, Link walked into the cave and over to the hollow, where he settled down to wait. His eyes followed the medicine cat as she padded to and fro, sometimes shepherding berries, others toting a mouthful of leaves. It wasn't long before Sagewhisker had finished sorting out her many herbs and berries—she'd obviously been gathering fresh supplies earlier that day. She padded up to him and sat down, her sky-blue gaze even and curious. "You seem troubled by something," she told him. "Is it your belly or your heart?"

"Heart," Link muttered, shifting his eyes to the side shamefully. "There's something I need to talk about, and..."

"It must really be bothering you, if you brought it to me rather than Lavastar," Sagewhisker mused. The golden tom jerked his head up in surprise. "Honestly, Link, any cat with eyes can see that you have a very special place in your heart for your mentor. And no, I don't mean it in a romantic sense," she added, seeing the beginnings of a protest on Link's muzzle. "You don't even try to hide the depth of your admiration and respect for her. Not that it's something to be ashamed of—many apprentices find themselves in awe of their mentor, and those that do tend to turn out to be splendid warriors."

"I haven't told Lavastar," Link admitted, his heart hammering fiercely in his chest. At that moment, though, he wanted the rusty-orange warrior beside him, despite what he had come to tell Sagewhisker. "I just—I didn't know if she would be willing to hear me out before she reacted to what I've done."

"Well, what _have _you done?" the medicine cat asked gently. Link sighed.

"I went into Twolegplace while I was hunting today," he confessed, flinching in preparation for Sagewhisker's scorn. But the mottled queen was silent, her eyes and face carefully neutral as she waited for him to explain himself. "It started out that I wanted to hunt fatter prey there, but..." He swallowed hard. "Do you remember that I used to be...a Twoleg?" He spoke the word in the tiniest whisper he could. The medicine cat nodded.

"Yes, but you're a cat now," she meowed simply. "Why do you bring this up?"

"While I was at Twolegplace, I ran into a Twoleg I used to know," he explained. "I can still _talk _to them, Sagewhisker—and I was talking with her." Link hesitated, a little unsure of how to go on. "Twolegs have...Well, it's kind of like their StarClan, only they aren't the Twolegs' ancestors. They..._created_ the Twolegs, and everything else in this world. They're called Goddesses, and there are three of them."

"If these ' Goddesses' created the Twolegs," Sagewhisker began slowly, carefully tasting the unfamiliar word, "then who created the Goddesses?" She shook her head, the beginnings of an amused smirk visible between her whiskers. Clearly, she thought she was on the verge of relieving him of his old, silly Twoleg notions. "Or do the Twolegs believe that the Goddesses were always there?"

"They believe they were always there," Link mewed. "But...when I was a Twoleg, I was familiar with these Goddesses and was able to use some of their power to protect myself. I even stood in their presence once, although I have no memory of how they looked or what their voices sounded like. So, because of all this, I know that they are not just imaginary beings." He paused. Much of the amusement had died from Sagewhisker's eyes when he mentioned his experiences with the Three. He seemed to be speaking more to her heart now, as one cat with otherworldly experience to another. "And I know that StarClan are real, because they are the ones who called me to MountainClan and gave me this cat body. They also spoke to you and told you that I would come."

"They did," she murmured, obviously intrigued by the turn this conversation had taken. "Perhaps it's possible that both Goddesses and StarClan exist—and that one watches Twolegs while the other protects cats."

"That's what I was thinking as well. I was also thinking that if that's the case, then I'm under StarClan's watch now—considering that the Three can't see me." The tom frowned and licked a forepaw, drawing it over his head distractedly. Saying the words aloud had only set his racing heart surging faster. Though he had delivered himself into StarClan's care at the foot of the mountain trail, the thought of being invisible to the Goddesses who'd watched and protected him as a Hylian was still terrifying. Now, under the bright eyes of Sagewhisker—who was possibly the only other cat in this world who knew of the Three—he felt even more anxious. His paw went back to his long ears again and again, rubbing in swift, hard strokes to try and vent his fears that way.

The medicine cat seemed to sense this, for she rose gracefully to her feet and padded closer to him. With a gentle paw, she lowered Link's furiously-scrubbing forepaw and pressed it lightly back down on the floor. "Stop that," she ordered calmly. "Even if you've only been a cat for a pawful of moons, you should know that a chafed ear is incredibly painful." Link let out a short purr of dry amusement. "Now, from what I've heard thus far, you seem to be worrying yourself over nothing. If your old Goddesses can no longer find you, then perhaps it means that you truly have been delivered out of their grasp and into the paws of StarClan—which is nothing to be afraid of." Her eyes were kind as she gave the tomcat a lick on the head. "Our warrior ancestors care deeply for us, and I think that they will look past your old life and guard you as their own."

"I think that may be what's been worrying me," the young cat admitted, shrugging his shoulders hopelessly. "The protection the Three gave me was absolute—they went out of their way to keep me alive as I worked to fulfill the destiny they had given to me. I know that StarClan also has high hopes for me. I'm just afraid that they won't be as"—he paused, searching for a good word—"as _favoring _as the Goddesses were, if that makes sense."

"It does." Sagewhisker wrapped her tail around Link's haunches consolingly. The apprentice leaned in closer, hungry for any kind of comfort he could find. "I cannot say for sure whether or not StarClan will defend your life as jealously as you say your Goddesses did. They have been known to guide the pawsteps of chosen warriors away from danger, but they don't _force _those cats to act in ways that are wise. They can't, you see. StarClan _influence_; they do not control."

"So I could very well be killed before I complete the task they called me here to do?" Link asked nervously.

"I highly doubt that," the medicine cat purred, giving Link another lick. "Though the land we inhabit may be dangerous, you strike me as a cat who knows how to keep himself out of life-threatening situations." The young tom was startled; hadn't Impa said something along those same lines earlier? He looked up at the she-cat. Sagewhisker had turned her eyes towards the far wall of her den. She seemed to be looking at something that lay outside her fragrant cave, something worlds and lives away from where she sat. Then, a small frown creased her young face, and her blue eyes darkened like a sky full of rainclouds.

"I feel as though StarClan want me to tell you this, though it would normally break the medicine cat's vow of silence concerning dreams," she whispered at length. "You must never tell another cat what I am about to say." Link nodded eagerly. "Brushpaw tells me that he has dreamed of Twolegs who turn into cats. One of them he believes to be you, for the Towleg's head-fur is the same color as your pelt, and his eyes hold the same courage and determination as yours."

"What about the others?" Link asked, suppressing a chill of excitement. Sagewhisker shook her head.

"One he says he can never recall the appearance of, and the third is always hidden in shadow. These dreams have been visiting him on and off for moons, starting before you even arrived at our camp." Her eyes darkened thoughtfully. "We have tried to interpret them ourselves, and have asked StarClan their meaning...but they remain unclear." She shrugged her dappled shoulders in a gesture of resignation. "Perhaps they relate to you, and perhaps they do not. I cannot say for certain."

"I guess time will tell," the former Hylian muttered. Sagewhisker nodded in agreement, then pressed her muzzle into his shoulder briefly.

"Until it does though, I don't think you have anything to fear," she told him. "If you truly were charged by StarClan to protect our Clan, then they will at the very least try to guide you down the right paths. My advice is to be open to anything that looks like it could be a sign from them." Her face grew serious again. "Have you seen anything that might fall under that category?"

"Maybe..." Hurriedly, Link relayed the story of his find of the sagebush and how the herb's flavor had clung to his whiskers. "I think it might have been them telling me to come find you and talk."

Sagewhisker nodded wisely. "I think you're right, and I'm glad I was able to help. Is there anything else you think they may have sent you? Any strange dreams that seem to mean more than they are about? Odd sensations?"

For a heartbeat, Link was tempted to tell her about his feelings of eyes, eyes that burned into the back of his neck like embers. The first few times it had occurred, he was willing to brush it off as simple paranoia—or even jumpiness as he adjusted to his sharper feline senses. He wanted to believe she would say it was the eyes of StarClan following him, or perhaps his own way of interpreting his warrior ancestors' watchful gazes; but he knew she wouldn't. Something, some gut instinct, told him that those eyes were of a darker origin than the silver sparkle of StarClan, and fear of what that darker origin could be kept him silent. With great difficulty, the golden cat shook his striped head. Sagewhisker gave him another affectionate rub of her head, and the fragrant smell of herbs that clung to her fur pushed out his anxieties.

"You have nothing to be worried about, Link," murmured the medicine cat, and Link let himself believe her every word. "Leave your fate in the paws of StarClan, and they will show you the way they want you to go." The young tom nodded. "I think it's time you found Lavastar and see if she has anything in mind for you to do with the rest of your evening. Be sure to tell me if you have any strange dreams or experience anything you think may be a message from StarClan." The tabby apprentice nodded again, and left, his paws and heart much lighter than when he'd entered.

* * *

Link never failed to find himself awed by the nursery, even though he had entered its shadows many times since joining the Clan. Blazingpaw had told him once that it was one of the largest dens in MountainClan's camp, second only to the warriors' den. Roughly two tail-lengths deep and almost four wide, it consisted of a series of small, indented "rooms" that branched off from the body of the cave. Queens made their nests, and the nests of their litters, in the little hollows on the edges of the main cave. Link slipped through the low entrance, the prey he'd caught earlier clamped in his jaws. He spent a few moments blinking in the darkness until his eyes adjusted. Once they did, he saw the glimmer of six little kit eyes staring up at him from across the cave. Stormcloud's litter.

Skullkit was the first of the trio to approach the apprentice warrior. The tiny, pale brown tom gazed up at Link unabashedly, his green eyes curious, but critical. The golden tabby found himself reminded, inexplicably, of Swoopingclaw, even though the kit seemed to have no difficulty getting along with MountainClan's rogue-turned-apprentice. The silence between the two young cats grew, until finally, Link mewed, "Is your mother here?"

"She went to stretch her legs, she said," Skullkit informed him. "Why? Is that fresh-kill for her? I don't think she likes birds too much. A few days ago, she was talking to Magmaheart when Firekit and Smokekit were eating a brown bird—like the ones you have; what are they called?—and she said—and she asked, 'How can they stand to pull out all those little feathers?' And she sounded annoyed when she said it, kinda like she sounds whenever she finds out me and Volcanokit pushed Mirrorkit into the stream outside camp." He paused for a moment, his white-furred face crinkling in thought, then asked, "So, are those birds for her? Because I don't think she likes birds."

"She can have the bird or the pika, whichever she prefers," Link told the kit. Skullkit nodded. "How long ago did she leave?"

"A while," Skullkit replied, shrugging. He turned back to his littermates, who were now approaching Link as well. "But now she's right a'hind you." Link turned over his shoulder to see the black and gray she-cat standing at the entrance of the nursery. He stepped to the side to let her enter, and after indicating that the fresh-kill was for her and Magmaheart to share, he left. On his way to the apprentices' den, he passed Swoopingclaw. The pale tabby barely spared him a passing glance before ducking into the nursery himself. Link frowned slightly as a thought occurred to him: _Could it be that Swoopingclaw is Skullkit's father, and that's why I'm reminded of him?_

Though he hadn't given it much thought before now, the young tom realized that if he set down to work on it, he could probably draw up family trees for most of the Clan. Many cats looked very similar to each other, in build and pelt and eye. And even though some cats looked completely different, the way they treated each other seemed to suggest they had once slept side-by-side in the nursery. _They're probably _all_ related in some way,_ Link thought. All of this, combined with his earlier meeting with the Shadow Sage, was making him feel more like an outsider by the minute. He sighed and shook his head, then padded towards the apprentices' den to rest.

The golden tom was intercepted on his journey a few steps from the nursery by an energetic, yellow fireball. Blazingpaw pounced in front of him, shifting eagerly from paw to paw. Link glanced up into her bright, green eyes briefly—noting that her brother, Ghostpaw, was standing behind her—before lowering his head to its former, sorrowful degree. The she-cat persisted, crouching in his path with her haunches stretched up higher than her forequarters. She pressed her muzzle up against his, wrinkling her nose in greeting. "You look like a kit that just got told its mother's going to wean it," she remarked, flicking her striped tail over his ears playfully. "What's got you so down, Link? It's not like you to be so…ah, Ghostpaw has the word for it…muh, muh, moh…" She turned to her brother helplessly.

"Morose," whispered Ghostpaw, padding up to stand beside his bright-furred sister. His amber eyes glowed with the gentle warmth that the timid tomcat saved for his closer companions. "It means…sad or brooding. It's not a word I would normally choose to describe you, Link, but Blazingpaw is right. You do seem rather morose. Is something the matter?" Looking from one concerned apprentice to the other, Link relented.

"I just…" He trailed off miserably. Blazingpaw stepped around him lightly and pressed her flank against his in a gesture of comfort. Ghostpaw stayed in the front, but he took a few steps closer and settled down there. "Sometimes it bothers me that I wasn't born into MountainClan like every other cat here," he confessed softly. "I know most cats are willing to put my past aside, or even forget it completely, but there are times when _I_ can't." He shrugged. "I just feel so different sometimes."

Blazingpaw and Ghostpaw were silent as they digested this information. Surprisingly, it was the pale gray apprentice who spoke first, drawing his muzzle briefly alongside Link's as he did so. "Ravenpaw said it best at the last Gathering," he mewed. "Do you remember? He said: _It doesn't really matter where you started from. You're here now, doing everything we are. You're an apprentice, same as us._"

"Ghostpaw's right," Blazingpaw put in eagerly. "It shouldn't matter where you were born. You're doing all of the same work that we're doing, even though…we're Clanborn and…well, you're not…" She ducked her head sheepishly at having reminded the former Hylian of the cause of his sorrows. "Even if you _were_ a rogue, you aren't anymore. You're a MountainClan apprentice, someday to be a MountainClan warrior."

Link felt a quiet purr beginning to build in his chest at the friendship and comfort being shown to him here. He looked from Blazingpaw to Ghostpaw, then back again. The tabby queen winked good-naturedly at him. "And if family's an issue, don't forget what Goronback said when he was introducing you to Sunleg. When he said that I was the one who found you at the end of the camp trail, he described me as being a cat that looked like I could be from the same litter as you." She glanced over at Ghostpaw—who nodded, apparently seeing where his sister was heading—and nudged Link gently with a hindpaw. "If you'd like, we could count you in our litter."

"I'd love to have a brother like you," Ghostpaw murmured. "Perhaps StarClan sent you to MountainClan with the two of us in mind."

The golden tom's mouth hung open. He wondered if the other two apprentices knew just how much their casual offer meant to him. Sure, when he'd been accepted into MountainClan, he had assumed that the other cats would gradually come to see him as one of their own. No cat had actually offered to take him into the family—be it the family of the Clan, or their own mother-father-and-siblings family. Not until now. Link had assumed that there would always be some measure of doubt between him and every other cat here; Ghostpaw and Blazingpaw, it seemed, harbored no such doubt. The suddenness with which their trust and offer came startled the young tom, and for what felt like moons, all he could do was stare openmouthed.

Blazingpaw startled him out of his shock with a friendly nudge on the shoulder and an amused _mrrow_. "You look like a fish," she commented. "Were you not expecting this?"

Link hesitated, trying to piece together an explanation of his past without revealing too much of it—he was sure Ghostpaw didn't know he had once been a Twoleg, and it wasn't a fact he cared to explain. Finally, he spoke. "I never really grew up with much of a family," he meowed softly. "No mother, no father, none that I can really recall. The most I really had were…friends—friends who took care of me. But I was different from them, and I think most of them couldn't forget that, as hard as they tried." Ghostpaw pushed his head against the other tomcat's flank in a rare display of public affection. Link wondered if the shy cat had some knowledge of where he himself stood: If he wasn't with his sister, Ghostpaw was usually sitting off to the side—alone and unapproached by most. "When I was told about this Clan, I had no idea I was walking into such a big family. It took me a bit to figure out where I might belong, and sometimes I'm still not sure."

"We know where you belong," Blazingpaw cut in eagerly. She flicked her tail to beckon the two tomcats, and trotted across the camp. Link glanced at Ghostpaw before padding after her. For a heartbeat, he feared that she would lead him to the entrance of the camp and tell him that his place was with the Twolegs he'd once lived among; his heart leapt into his throat as he saw where she was leading them. The golden she-cat skipped a few steps, then whirled in the air so that she was facing the two toms when she landed. With a grand gesture, she waved her tail at the low-spread branches of the apprentices' den. "Here," she purred. "This is where you belong, Link—for now, at least." She jerked her head towards the warriors' den. "Someday, you'll belong there."

Link was overcome with emotion. Suddenly he felt as though the friendship of these two cats was all he needed; if the rest of MountainClan hated every hair on his pelt, he wouldn't have cared. They were more than his friends. They were his surrogate litter now, his own brother and sister. He darted forward and buried his nose in Blazingpaw's long-furred shoulder, his entire body rumbling with a purr that sounded like the rolling of thunder. He felt Ghostpaw's soft tail twining around his gently, and smelled the young tom as he pressed close. "We're here for you," he heard Blazingpaw mew in his ear. "From now on, if any cat has a problem with you, they've got a problem with us, too."

"You have no idea how much this means to me," the leggy tom mumbled in a choked voice. He wasn't sure what had happened. He'd woken up this morning an apprentice, spent the afternoon as a Hylian…And now he was two cats' brother.

"I think we do," Blazingpaw told him, and Link felt her tail sweep down his shoulder. "Well, _I_ do, at least. Goronback always says that StarClan gave Brownfur to him as a sister because they knew there were some things his mother wouldn't be able to understand about him." Her muzzle burrowed its way into Link's shoulder, and Ghostpaw pressed even closer to the two cats.

They remained that way, huddled close together in a pile of gold and gray, for what felt like years to Link. The former Hylian found himself unable to believe what had just happened. His saddened heart had sunken to the tips of his claws, only to leap up high into his chest a heartbeat later. He had gone from orphan to brother in the span of an afternoon. _Ghostpaw said he thought StarClan sent me here with them in mind,_ he mused. _Maybe he's right. Maybe part of why they sent me here was to help me find the family I never had._


	12. Chapter 10

His lungs feeling as though they would soon burst, Link tore after the leggy mountain rabbit he had scared into flight. The swift rodent's long hindlegs kicked out strongly as it ran, sending sprays of dust and pebbles right at the MountainClan tom's eyes. Up and around, predator and prey raced across the sun-baked flank of the mountain, neither willing to submit first. The rabbit was desperately seeking a safe place to hide, out of the reach of claws and fangs, but such shelter did not come easily on the rocky slopes. It would have to rely on its fleet feet to save its life, and for them to do so before the cat pounding steadily behind it closed the gap.

Link poured every ounce of strength into his lean, wiry limbs, urging them faster and faster as his massive paws struck the ground. He was running flat-out: head and ears low, tail stretched out stiffly behind him, body close to the ground. The rabbit led him up a steep, dusty slope that curved sharply to the right at the top. The young tomcat drove harder, shooting his body straight towards his quarry. Running along the curve startled him, and for a few heartbeats, he found himself skidding sideways in the loose soil at his feet, throwing up showers of small stones that seemed to clatter angrily at being disturbed; but regaining his balance was foolishly easy, and when he saw the rabbit heading back down the other side of the slope, he opened his stride to make up for the lost ground. His downhill darting lent incredible speed to his tiring paws, but at the price of control.

The golden-furred cat quickly found himself flying down the side of the mountain like a runaway boulder, unable to slow down or change direction. A cold jolt of fear stabbed into his chest, chilling him despite the greenleaf sun setting his pelt ablaze with heat. Lavastar had warned him countless times about watching his footing and speed on the steeper parts of the mountain; her stories of warriors whose wild runs had been literally stopped dead by a sedentary boulder haunted his mind. His own close calls on the dusty, winding trails came to mind as well, adding further support to the argument to stop. Though it hurt him a little to pass up such a fine piece of prey, Link reasoned that his life was worth more to the Clan than the rabbit's. He gritted his fangs and dug his heels into the dry, sandy dirt that covered the steep trail. He grated to a halt, his paws peeling up shards of dried mud from the cracked ground.

The rabbit, on the other paw, seemed to have no concern for its life when it came to falling off the mountain. It continued its mad dash without letting up in the slightest, and was rewarded at the end of the trail. Link watched as the lean rodent made its way to the flat bottom of the hill; it whipped its body around as quick as lightning and bolted to the side, away from the hunter. He waited until the dust clouds from its flying paws had settled back to earth before striking off in search of other prey. "I bet—_haa, haa_—there's a re-reason why most MountainClan cats don't—don't bother with your kind," he panted to the rabbit, though he knew it was far from hearing. "You ruh-run too recklessly, and—and you're too hard to p-pounce on."

"Talking to our prey, are we, Link?" a familiar voice inquired from above. Link turned to look up at the spur of brindled sandstone further up the trail, and was hardly surprised to see Blazingpaw stretched out along it, sunning herself mildly.

"Sh-shouldn't you be—_haa_—hunting?" the tabby tom inquired breathlessly, stumbling up to meet her. Blazingpaw scooted to the side to give him room to slump down beside her. Her green eyes were bright with amusement.

"I was," she mewed, giving the tired tabby a gentle lick behind the ear. "Further up on the mountain. I was coming down a little to see if I could pick up any new scent trails, but when I saw you chasing that rabbit, I decided to settle down to watch. Why did you give up?"

"If I'd…_haa_, kept going," Link replied brokenly, "I wou-would've run—_haa, haa_—right over the edge."

Blazingpaw considered this for a moment or two, then nodded in agreement. "Yeah, probably. You _were_ going pretty fast."

As he lay on his belly catching his breath, Link reminded himself of his and Blazingpaw's assignment for the day: Hunting, and lots of it. It was by no means their warrior assessment, just the solution to the Clan's relatively few hunting patrols over the past couple days. After parting paths with Blazingpaw at the far end of the Canyon, the young tom had busied himself with the capture of three pikas and a decently-sized mountain bird. The rabbit had been sort of a second-thought chase. He'd startled it out of hiding while trying to find a good place to stash his more recent kill, and gone after it without thinking.

"Have you gotten anything so far?" he asked, lifting his head. The tightness in his chest had subsided, and breathing was much easier now. Blazingpaw shrugged.

"I went after a hyrax not long after we split up." Link couldn't help an impressed meow. "Well, it smelled like it was fairly young, and I'm not exactly a kit anymore, so I thought I'd be able to bring it down."

"It was bigger than you thought, wasn't it?"

"_Bigger_ does not even begin to describe this hyrax, Link!" the she-cat spluttered, her eyes stretching wide. "It was massive! I bet it would probably cast a shadow on Lavastar! It saw me, but it didn't even move to run away."

"It probably didn't see you as much of a threat," Link commented. His tail curled up around his haunch as he lay. He loved listening to Blazingpaw recount her hunts; the chipper queen was never at a loss for a story to tell. Though she tended towards outrageous exaggeration, she was a wonderful actress and gave the appearance of believing her own tall tales completely.

"Huh! Well, if it didn't, it should have!" Blazingpaw rolled onto her back and kicked her paws lazily at the wide blue sky above them. "For whatever it's worth, I let him be and went off on the trail of a pika for a bit. I lost that one at a hole in the wall, but luckily there was a mouse trail that was fairly fresh. I followed _that_ one a good ways up the mountain before a bird distracted me, so I had to follow _that_ because the scent was more recent than the mouse's."

Link cut her off with a wave of his tail. "Blazingpaw, have you actually _caught_ anything today, or have you just spent the morning tracking prey all over the mountain?" he asked bluntly. The golden she-cat hesitated, then let her paws droop back to the ground with a sigh.

"I haven't had a good day of it so far," she mewed, a little shamefully. "Happens to every cat sometimes. But I don't think Craterfire will be too pleased if I come back to camp empty-pawed."

"You know, our mentors never said we had to hunt alone today," Link murmured. Blazingpaw's ears pricked up with interest. "Do you want to team up and see if you have better luck? Lavastar's given me a few lessons on group hunts, but I've never really had an opportunity to practice what I learned."

"You've obviously never gone on hunting patrol with Wolfosclaw," Blazingpaw told him. "He makes it a point to do at least one group hunt while he's out, and he usually just takes whatever apprentice is on patrol that day with him to do it."

"I'm not sure if he'd give me that kind of special treatment," Link meowed uneasily, thinking of the MountainClan deputy. While Wolfosclaw had never shown him any outright hostility, it was hard for Link to draw any direct praise from the gray-and-brown tomcat. Other apprentices, like Fairypaw, never seemed to have any trouble impressing Wolfosclaw.

Blazingpaw let out an amused _mrrow_. "Mousebrain," she teased. "It's not special treatment if he does it to every apprentice." Link shrugged, wordlessly admitting that the she-cat was right. "Wolfosclaw's not a bad cat once you get used to him—and once he gets used to you. Brownfur always used to say that Wolfosclaw forms an opinion of you the moment he lays eyes on you, but he never holds it against you if you don't meet his expectations. He just gets…a little disappointed for a while, but he'll always give you a second chance, or a third, or a fourth, or however many it takes for you to be the cat he thinks you can be."

"I miss sharing a den with Brownfur sometimes," Link admitted, sliding onto his side. He felt his fur brush against the grainy surface of the rock beneath him, and felt tiny grains of sandstone trickle into his pelt like gritty raindrops. The feeling bothered him a little; he stood up and shook out his fur, and Blazingpaw was quick to follow him. "Let's get a move on. I bet if we teamed up we could bring down bigger prey than if we were hunting solo."

The two tabbies trotted down a gently-sloping side trail together, their golden-striped pelts blazing in the bright sunlight. Their pace was carefree and easy, a loping gait that covered ground steadily if not slowly, but anyone looking closer would notice that both pairs of ears were sharply pricked to pick up prey-sounds. They rarely spoke, save to warn one another of fissures or rocks in their path. Every so often, one of them would pause and sniff the ground in search of a scent trail; one or two turned up, but they were stale enough to suggest the animal was nowhere near. For the most part, though, the only sounds were the rasps of their rough pawpads against the dry ground and the sporadic buzzing of cicadas.

As they padded further down the path, their trail grew narrower and the rocks walling their path stretched higher. The ground grew progressively harder as well; its pale, red-brown surface was broken into squares with dry, curling edges that crumbled to dust on contact. The sounds of insects faded out slowly into silence, as if swallowed by the dark gray stone around the two cats. The longer they walked, the less they checked for the scent of prey. Neither had seen this part of the mountain before; they were fully wrapped up in the thrill of exploration. After a time, Link looked up. The craggy, rocky shelves rearing over his head now stood higher—perhaps twice as much—than those that made up the Canyon; but rather than coming closer at the top, they seemed to stretch away from each other. Unlike the Canyon, there were no cooling shadows here. The path at the bottom of the gorge had become so narrow that the two MountainClan apprentices could no longer walk side-by-side; Link had taken the lead, although he could see the trail widening ahead. Their steps light—almost cautious in the silence—they made their way towards the end of the path.

At the end of the deep canyon, the thin trail opened up into a plateau. It was neither especially large nor small; Link estimated it to be about the same size as the sandy training hollow close to camp. The flat surface of the tabletop formation was covered in smooth, brown soil—a welcome change for paws worn from the bright, rock-hard, fissured trails of the mountainside. A single tree, warped to the side for no foreseeable reason, spread its sparsely-leafed branches over one corner of the clearing; a few of its shadows fell across the flat top of a color-banded sandstone formation. Full sunlight baked the open space, but the usual glare was swallowed by the dark dirt lining it. A few boulders clung to the edges of the area, enough to keep it reasonably sheltered should the wind turn foul. The air around it was still and silent, as if it were surrounded by invisible, soundproof walls; not even the insects could be heard.

Link and Blazingpaw stepped out onto the small, quiet plateau, mewing softly in amazement at how soft the soil was underpaw. They had previously _thought_ that this part of the mountain was unfamiliar; now they knew it for sure. "Craterfire never showed me this place before," Blazingpaw murmured, her green eyes sparkling like emeralds as she gazed around her.

"Nor Lavastar." Link padded up to the sandstone rocks, staring at their swirling bands of red, cream, and orange in rapt awe. He raised a paw and pressed it against the grainy rock, feeling his pads slide down as the sediment beneath them crumbled away. "I wonder if any cat knows this place is here."

"I'm sure some cat does," the she-cat mewed, slipping up to stand beside him. "Probably Raggedstripe, she knows where _everything_ is on our territory because of all the border patrols she goes on—or maybe Swiftwind, she goes on a lot of patrols, too—or maybe even Dragonheart or one of the other elders. MountainClan has lived in this place for countless generations, Link. It's hard to imagine something like this could slip our Clan's notice for so long."

"So maybe it _has_ been found before," Link conceded with a shrug. "But what if it was forgotten and we just re-discovered it?" Blazingpaw's eyes glittered. She pushed her muzzle into her friend's shoulder affectionately and twined her tail with his.

"I say we keep it our own discovery," she whispered. "It could be our little place, somewhere for us to go whenever we need privacy. Every cat's got their own little private nooks around the territory, a place where they can go to think in peace."

Nodding, Link remembered his first day out with Lavastar, when the two of them had climbed to the ridge that overlooked both the Canyon and the camp. His mentor had said: _Some cats come up here to admire the view, others to sun themselves…Myself, I use it as a private place to think. _The tom nodded again, more to himself than in agreement. "It doesn't smell like anyone from our Clan has been here recently," he pointed out, sniffing the soft earth. _Or anything at all, really,_ he added in his mind, noticing the stark absence of prey-scent. "I think it's safe to say this place is ours to claim."

Blazingpaw turned around and pressed her back against the sun-warmed stone, sighing contentedly as she slid down into a lazy sort of slump. A few stray leaf-shadows dappled her golden face with streaks of gray-black, and the thin branch above her was reflected in miniature in her eyes. Link lowered himself onto his belly on the cool soil with a satisfied grunt and rested his chin on his paws. Overhead, the sky was clear, impossibly bright and blue, and the sun that hung in the middle of it was white-hot; the fiery orb seemed to bleach the color from the sky surrounding it, giving itself a pale halo. A few breezes, thin and lazy, dragged through the tree's upper branches, and whispered among the scant, pale green leaves there. A cicada clinging to the bark a few tail-lengths up the trunk of the tree seemed to take that as its cue to begin a loud, droning call—the first sound to break the ear-crushing silence of the plateau. Both cats' heads snapped up in surprise at the sudden noise—then both looked across at each other and let out simultaneous peals of purring laughter.

"Link…do you get the feeling that this place will be important to us someday?" Blazingpaw asked at length. The golden tom frowned thoughtfully at the question. "Like—I don't know, as more than just a place to be alone?"

"Maybe," he meowed slowly. In truth, he too was getting a strange feeling in his gut about the plateau, one that seemed to come to him from the future. The sensation was not unwelcome; in fact, it made him feel excited rather than uneasy. He stretched out even longer across the ground, pulling himself thin and spreading his toes wide; then, he pushed himself to his feet with a jaw-cracking yawn. "We'll have to pay close attention on our way back to camp so that we can find it again someday."

Blazingpaw turned to the side and also rose to her paws. She arched her back, and swiped her pink tongue over her whiskers as though she had just finished a tasty meal. "Definitely," she agreed, nodding rapidly. "There's something special about this place, I can feel it in my heart. I'd hate to lose it."

The two apprentices left the plateau's sunny silence much the same way they had entered it, although their pawsteps seemed much less hesitant now than when they had tiptoed through the gorge. Link was amazed at how recharged he felt, even though their rest had been brief. He felt ready to bring down all of the prey on the mountain, and with his friend at his side, it would be easy. He turned his head to find the pretty she-cat looking directly at him, her eyes unusually soft and warm; no sooner did their eyes meet than she snapped her gaze back to the trail ahead. Link was puzzled for a moment, a feeling which only persisted when he saw her sleek whiskers ripple with an embarrassed twitch. But the sun on his back made the day too good to dwell on such things, and the tabby tom quickly forgot the incident. He drew his tail down Blazingpaw's flank, mewed, "I bet I can find something to stalk before you do!" and then darted ahead.

"Be careful when you gamble," Blazingpaw warned, bounding up behind him. "Especially when you're gambling with _me_." Link turned over his shoulder with a teasing hiss; the trail was still too narrow for her to overtake him. The two young cats ran up the sloping path. When the gorge widened enough for them to run together, the she-cat moved up beside her friend, matching his pace step for step. It was good to run together, Link realized as his hardened pads pounded the cracked earth in a steady rhythm—especially with someone like Blazingpaw. The two apprentices hadn't had much time to spend together since the Gathering nearly three weeks back, and being apart from one of MountainClan's most accepting cats was less than desirable. _Hopefully,_ Link thought, _Lavastar and Craterfire will ease up a little._

"Wait!" hissed Blazingpaw, skidding to a sudden halt at the top of the trail. Link scrabbled in the flaky, cracked mud for a few moments in an attempt to stop. "Take a whiff of that!"

Obediently, the tom opened his mouth and inhaled, drawing the air over the roof of his mouth. He closed his jaws with a quiet snap, then parted them again slightly to lick his nose. "Hyrax," he murmured, glancing sidelong at her. "Didn't you go after one of those earlier this morning, only to be disappointed by how big it was—and, therefore, how uncatchable it was?"

"It was only uncatchable because I was alone," the golden queen shot back; a glimmer of a challenge was beginning to show in her leaf-green eyes. "There are _two_ of us now, Link! Didn't you say before that we could catch larger prey if we worked together?"

The tabby tom frowned thoughtfully. Yes, he had said earlier that the two of them working together would be able to catch bigger prey…but all numbers aside, they were still apprentices, and fairly young at that. He had seen hyraxes that were twice his size, easily; a creature like that could buck him off its back should he leap onto its shoulders. But, despite his best logic, the gleam in Blazingpaw's eyes tugged at his heart too hard. He could see that she wanted to give hunting one of the mountain's largest prey animals a chance. _She's a smart cat,_ he told himself. _She'll know when she's in too deep, and she won't be too proud to make a run for it if things get dangerous. Besides…just imagine the look on the Clan's faces when they see that we've brought down a hyrax without a warrior's help! What could go wrong?_

For a heartbeat, Link felt a twinge of foreboding, a kind of sick feeling in his stomach that seemed to want to answer the question he'd asked himself. Blazingpaw nudged his shoulder with her own, jolting him away from the momentary worry. "C'mon, Link! It's not like our prey's going to come plodding up to us and show us its throat! If we want to take that hyrax down, we're going to have to stalk, catch, and kill it ourselves."

Lowering themselves to the ground, the two golden-pelted apprentices snuck forward along the hyrax trail. Their lean muscles tensed with anticipation, their banded tails twitched impatiently. The earthy, grassy smell of their intended quarry only grew stronger the further they stalked. The hyrax was nearby; it was a wonder it hadn't heard or smelled them earlier.

They hadn't been prowling long before Link spotted the hyrax up ahead, in a sheltered grotto in the mountain's rock. The walls of the hollow were carved everywhere with little ledges and ridges; hunks of stone lay littered at the feet of the walls. The pudgy rodent was grazing peacefully in the shade of one of the mountain's rare single trees, snuffing and huffing as it pulled up mouthfuls of the yellowy grass. Blazingpaw tapped Link's shoulder with her tailtip, then pointed to a ledge above the hyrax on Link's side of the trail. The tom nodded, and crept silently up the narrow ridge leading up to the overhang. Their unspoken plan was for Link, who was the stronger jumper, to leap down onto their prey's back; Blazingpaw would either run for the throat herself, or distract the creature while Link made the kill from behind.

The golden tabby made his way up the ridge as stealthily as he could, placing his heavy paws carefully on the thin edge of rock. If he slipped, the hyrax would know it was being hunted, and would probably run blindly towards the opening of its sheltered hollow—right towards Blazingpaw. Link doubted seriously that his friend would be able to stop the panicked rodent's mad dash for safety, and he didn't want to see if she was as fast a dodger as she claimed to be. Tentatively, the tabby apprentice lifted a paw and set it down a little further ahead. _I can probably jump the last few tail-lengths,_ he reasoned, noting how thin his path was becoming. He lifted his other forepaw and stretched it forward. _I just want to get a little closer before I try to_ _leap for it._ He rested his foot on the stone and set his weight upon it.

A startled yowl jerked out of Link's throat as the part of the ridge on which he'd set his paw crumbled away. He'd hit the lottery of rotten luck, to be sure. It was no miracle that this little grotto in the rock had come to form. Years of freeze-thaw cycles had weakened the stone of a small blind canyon, which had fallen free from the wall in sheets when placed under enough pressure. The result was a little hollow with sloped sides dotted with flaky ledges, none of which should be considered stable.

Link's misplaced paw had fallen on a weak point in the ledge he'd chosen to climb, and when it gave out he was left fumbling for balance. The weight behind his step sent a shower of loose scree tumbling down with a hollow clatter. The sound echoed throughout the grotto, bouncing off the walls to mingle with the fading echoes of his cry. There was a silence that seemed too quiet, then a mysterious rumbling sound that steadily built in volume until it was near deafening. Link turned his head slowly over his shoulder to look fearfully at Blazingpaw. The origin of the rumble was no mystery to him; he could feel the ridge beneath his paws cracking and breaking. Something told him that the flakes of stone he'd broken free with his step had been critical to holding in place the line of rock on which he now stood. Now, with its anchor gone, the ridge was free to give way under the weight of the young cat standing atop it. And that was just what it planned to do.

"Link!" Blazingpaw yowled, springing up out of her hunter's crouch and racing towards her friend.

"Stay back, Blazingpaw!" Link cried. The stone beneath his feet was now marred and broken by deep cracks running through it. Chunks of the wall were starting to fall away, cascading down to the ground below in rattling waves. He gave a choked gasp as a sheet of rock beneath his right hindpaw gave way suddenly; he kicked frantically at the air until he could regain control of his foot and bring it safely onto the ledge. A fissure between his two front paws creaked like breaking ice and began to widen, stretching the tom's front end sideways. Link crammed himself against the wall, drawing his forepaw up against his chest. The half of the fissure closest to the grotto began peeling away, torturously slow. When the young tabby moved to put his paw back on it again, hoping for a little more ground to stand on, the rock shrieked and sheared away from the wall completely.

Shivering on a ledge that was barely wide enough for the two left paws he was standing on, Link wondered if his only choice was to follow the rocks down and hope for the best. It would be easy enough to release his grip on the dangerously thin ledge and freefall to the ground. Still, as he stood there weighing what seemed to be his only chance (save for holding on and waiting until what was left of the ledge collapsed, or until he lost his balance), he noticed that the ground was much further away than he'd realized before. He was damn high off the ground, much higher than he wanted to fall from. Especially an uncontrolled fall like the one he was planning. He bit his lip nervously. Was it possible to survive a jump from this height, even without the added danger of randomly falling slabs of rock?

Something—a leaf on the breeze, perhaps; he never really knew what—tickled the side of his face while he stood in fearful thought. Link turned his head and saw that the overhanging ledge was still intact…and looked fairly stable. He was too far away to safely jump onto its flat top, but was only one option it presented him with and it wasn't the one he chose. Gathering his legs under him as best he could, the golden tabby cat lunged towards the stone spur in a blur of yellow. His haunches flipped forward, and he struck the side of the crag with all four paws, then ricocheted towards the grassy patch where the hyrax had formerly grazed. He flinched at the impact, but was surprised when the only sound he heard was the _whuff_ of all of the air leaving his lungs as he struck the ground hard. Behind him, the thin sheet that remained of the ledge split away from the side of the hollow; it shattered like glass when it struck the ground. He rolled onto his side, panting hard and shivering with ice-cold fear, to stare up at the sky above the grotto.

A warn muzzle pressed against his belly made him look over, and it was there that he saw Blazingpaw carefully nosing his fur. She gazed into his eyes, and he saw his own raw terror reflected there. "Great StarClan," the pretty golden cat mewed in a quiet voice. "I thought you were going to die, Link! I thought you were going to fall, the way you were balanced up there, and I thought the rest of the ledge was going to come down and bury you!"

"So—so did I," the tom gasped. He leaned his head back down. "I think—think I'm all right, though. A lih…little sore. But fine." The quivering Blazingpaw flopped limply down beside him, cuddling close. Link rolled onto his belly and pressed his shoulder against hers. His flank trembled fiercely, but he had no idea who was shaking harder.

* * *

"You two are back a little later than I was expecting," Craterfire meowed when the two young tabby cats appeared at the top of the camp trail. His vivid green eyes looked from one to the other, as though he were confused about who was Blazingpaw and who was Link.

"We…had a bit of a close call higher up on the mountain earlier," Blazingpaw mewed quickly. "It took a little while for us to get our nerves back under control to start hunting again."

Link nodded, grateful that his chatty friend could gloss over stories with the same level of skill as she had in exaggerating them. In truth, it had taken them nearly half an hour to overcome the shock of the events in the grotto; they were late returning to camp because they had chosen to stay and grab a couple of mice before calling it a day. Frankly, he was glad that both he and Blazingpaw had escaped the collapsing ledge without injury. The young tom couldn't even begin to imagine explaining to Lavastar how he had managed to break a leg, or something equally severe. In fact, the worst he would likely have to come clean about was the bruised pawpads from his less-than-graceful landing.

Craterfire regarded the two apprentices with worry. "What sort of a close call?" he asked gently. "Are you both all right?"

"Fine!" Blazingpaw purred eagerly. The tortoiseshell tom frowned slightly; she hadn't answered his first question. He turned his emerald stare to Link. The golden tabby sighed. If he had one regret, it was that he was nowhere near as smooth a talker as Blazingpaw. Judging from his friend's muffled hiss, the she-cat knew it, too.

"A ledge I was walking along wasn't as sturdy as I thought." Link figured it was better to tell that little piece of the truth rather than risk telling a story that Craterfire did not believe. "It started to crumble, but I was able to get off of it before it all fell to pieces."

"Were you injured in any way?"

"No." Link shook his head, figuring it would be better to stay quiet about his raw, battered paws. It wasn't as though the pain was driving him out of his mind, anyway. Craterfire gave the two young apprentices one final, solid look-over before nodding.

"You two look exhausted," he murmured, his eyes softening. "You've been out hunting all day, and from the few times I crossed your trails, you were higher up on the mountain than I would have sent you. I'll ask Fairypaw or Ghostpaw to take care of the elders and queens; you two rest."

Gratefully, Link and Blazingpaw slipped through the entrance of the MountainClan camp, and deposited their catches on the growing pile beneath the rocky overhang. The sun had already dipped below the rim of the camp walls, and the world was tinged with the crimson and purple twilight. Crickets hummed in the brush, while a few scattered fireflies lit the evening in brief glows. Link turned to Blazingpaw, trying to tell her with his eyes how much he had enjoyed spending the day with her, crumbling ledge and all. Blazingpaw seemed to sense this; she rubbed her head against his, purring warmly. One after the other, they slipped down the tunnel that led under the bush and found their nests. Blazingpaw collapsed into hers with a loud huff. Link circled his two or three times, then settled down in a tight ball. He felt something warm against his back, and leaned into it. He fell asleep almost instantly, back to back with his friend.


	13. Chapter 11

That night, Link dreamed that he was standing at the entrance of the Death Mountain Crater, though it seemed too real to be just the workings of his sleeping mind. Every nook and recess in the rock wall's face was either brought to light or shadowed as it would be in the waking world. He could feel the rough path beneath his paws, the stones that dug into his pads and the grit that got in between his claws. He could smell the heavy, choking odor of the smoke that came from deep within the mountain's heart. Wave after wave of pure heat—like noonday sun, only so much redder and harsher—rolled out from the crater's gaping mouth like hot breath, crashing over him and soaking into his pelt. Pricking up his slender-pointed ears, the young tom swore he could hear the volcano's groans as it shifted in its sleep. He touched his nose to the dark rock of the mountain, noting in surprise the warmth that radiated from what he had assumed would be cold stone.

Though he had been warned of its perils many times, Link found that he could not feel threatened by the crater itself; though it was a dangerous place for a cat, he would only run into trouble if he _entered_ it. Standing on the ground outside of it, however, was perfectly safe. He contented himself at first with gazing at the outside of it, taking in every detail in wonder. It all seemed so ludicrously real that he was beginning to wonder if it actually _was_ a dream; he was fascinated by it. Every spur and hollow seemed to cry for his attention, and he gave it gladly—prodding a loose-looking stone with a paw or investigating a crack with his whiskers.

But, just when it seemed as though the crater itself held no interest for him, Link took notice of the red light that glowed from the dark tunnel cutting through the mountain. At first, he felt it; it set his pelt burning with its raw, red heat, forcing him to pant openmouthed to keep from overheating. The young tabby tom turned slowly toward the gaping mouth of the crater tunnel, and there he saw the light. It seemed to be the only light that his dream held; and it lured him in dangerously, pulled his paws towards itself, made him desire to be a part of it. Link had never seen red light quite like this before, save for at the setting of the sun. He wanted to step into its scarlet glow—feel the absolute heat of it soak into his fur—have it bathe him in its bloody glow. He wanted to have all the radiance of a burning sunset, to be the last light of Hyrule before night wrapped the land in dark sleep. Step by step, he let the hypnotic glow of the crater draw him into the light.

No sooner did Link's paws cross the threshold than two yellow eyes sparked into life in the crimson-black at the end of the tunnel. The familiar burn started in the back of his brain, fierce and hungry and searching; he wanted to resist and run away, like he had earlier that day outside the camp, but his paws refused to carry him from the glorious red light. Then the silhouette of a cat appeared around the twin yellow gleams, a shape that seemed to grow larger and larger as it prowled towards him. The sight of the cat-shadow broke the crater's hold on his mind, and with a strangled yowl, the tomcat stumbled backwards. Too far—he felt himself blunder over the edge of the ground outside the crater and fall! All around the place he'd stood was nothing but empty air, blindingly white and harsh. The young tomcat fell like a stone, his heart racing in panic. The crater and its surrounding path were soon nothing more than a dark speck above him. Still the eyes watched him, their stare burning into his heart and mind just as they did in waking life, though the further he fell the less strong their gaze seemed to be. In a frenzy, Link flung out his limbs in all different directions and drew in his breath to cry out in terror—

—only to swallow the yowl in his chest as his back struck the soft moss of his nest.

Blue eyes shot open in the silver-shafted darkness, stretching wide in confusion and fear. Link felt his breath coming and leaving his lungs in rapid pants so strong they shook his entire body. He rolled over onto his side, quivering as he tried to collect his wits. He looked in turn at the sleeping forms of Blazingpaw, Ghostpaw, and Fairypaw. _I'm still in the den,_ he told himself. _It was just a dream—a falling dream. Everyone has those. Even cats, it seems._ Heaving a shaky sigh, the tabby pushed himself up, hoping that a quick walk around the sleeping camp would settle his nerves and help to scatter the dream. He left his nest without even bothering to groom scraps of leaf and moss from his rumpled fur. His paws still ached from his long hunt the previous day, but he was quickly becoming immune to such pain.

No sooner did he poke his head out of the den-tunnel than Link saw the shape of a broad-shouldered cat seated in the pale light of the three-quarter moon. His first reaction was one of anxiety: Was this his mysterious watcher, whose eyes even bored into his dreams—come to confront him face-to-face at last? Then, as he watched the silver-lit feline turn to groom its flank, he realized that it was none other than old Dragonheart soaking up the moonlight in the middle of the silent camp. Liking for the old tom rose up in his heart, and the gangly apprentice slipped out of the tunnel to join the elder. Dragonheart turned, pricking up his ears and squinting in the darkness. "Who's that?" he rasped softly, stretching his stiff neck forward to see. Link picked up the pace and trotted up, pausing about a tail-length away from Dragonheart.

"Just me—Link," he mewed. Dragonheart's eyes twinkled in the silver glow of the moon, and he rubbed his cheek against the younger cat's in greeting. Link stepped closer and settled down next to Dragonheart. The old tom wrapped his tail around the apprentice's haunches.

"You should be sleeping," he remarked. "You never know what Lavastar will have in store for you tomorrow. Being an apprentice is hard enough work, without you padding around the camp in the middle of the night."

"I...had a bit of a nightmare," Link confessed, dropping his head and lowering his ears in embarrassment. He almost expected some kind of scolding from the old he-cat, a kind of _You're going to be a warrior—deal with your problems yourself!_ But such an admonishment would be out of character for even-tempered Dragonheart; Link was hardly surprised when he received a gentle lick between the ears.

"Ah, well—it's just a dream," murmured the elder. "Don't think too much of it. Wherever you were in your dream, you aren't anymore. Whatever threatened you isn't here; you're safe. What was it about, if you feel like sharing?"

Link hesitated, licking his nose nervously. "The mountain crater," he explained. "It was mostly about the red light that comes from inside the mountain." Dragonheart nodded. "I wanted to walk into the light and feel the warmth of the volcano in my fur. But...well...Something startled me, and when I stepped back away from it, I fell off the side of the mountain." He purposely did not say anything about the burning eyes, deciding that it should remain a secret of his dreams—just as they were in the waking world.

"The Crater has always been a place of much mystery for our Clan," the old tom meowed when Link had finished. "Some cats are able to tolerate the heat inside of the tunnel, while others swoon once they set paw there. The elders have a story about MountainClan's past, saying that the Crater was formed by Redstar, MountainClan's first leader." He glanced at the young cat, as if assessing whether or not it was the appropriate time for a story. Link's eyes were bright with curiosity as he nodded. "The story goes that long, long ago, when the Greater Clans **(1)** still walked this land, the place which MountainClan calls their home was not a single mountain, but many hills of soft earth. Cats dug their dens into the side of these hills and lived there happily. It was a good place to live.

"One year, Redstar's beloved mate was pregnant, and so he set out to make a wonderful, new den for her. Now, it was leaf-bare, and the hills were cold, so he sought to make his mate's den the warmest he could by digging it deep, where it would be sheltered from even the iciest of winds. He dug and scraped at the side of the biggest hill for many days and nights, when suddenly the ground at his paws became warm. Encouraged by this, he dug deeper and deeper, until finally he dug through the ground and into the very heart of the world. Fiery earth-blood flooded the den, driving the leader of the ancient MountainClan up and out into the red-painted night. He and his mate watched as the lava burst through the roof of the den and spilled down its sides. Finally, in fear, they fled, taking the rest of the Clan with them to safety.

"The next morning, they went and saw that the den was no longer made of earth, but of solid rock. The lava had turned all of the other hills to rock as well. Some it leveled, others it carved deeply; but the hill where Redstar had dug his mate's den stood above all else. When the leader and his mate went to investigate, they found that the den was full of lava still. They called the den the Crater, and decreed that it was no place for cats. However, some of his kits, when they grew up, found that they were able to tolerate the heat of the Crater better than their littermates. It is said that they live there still, and any cat who is strong enough to withstand the heat will be welcomed as one of them."

Link felt his heartbeat quicken at those words. Suddenly the eyes he'd seen in his dream returned to his mind. Certainly, he did not believe that if he were to go to the Crater, he would meet ancient warriors...But the thought of such a mysterious place so close at paw intrigued him. Even as a Hylian, the fiery heart of Death Mountain had interested him, and he was never happier than when the Goron Tunic had allowed him to explore it fully. _And even without any special tunic, I was able to stay there for a bit,_ he thought. _How long could I stand the heat as a cat?_

"Ah, but it's late," Dragonheart sighed, rising stiffly to his paws and stretching. "You should head back to your nest, young Link, and see if you can get some more sleep out of the night. I'd hate for you to doze off during any training you may have tomorrow—Lavastar doesn't seem the type to tolerate such things."

Nodding rapidly in agreement, Link pushed his nose into the tom's patchy fur in farewell before padding back to the den. As he was curling up to sleep again, he gazed at Blazingpaw through narrowed eyes. The golden tabby queen's flanks were rising and falling in the peaceful rhythm of breath, and occasionally one of her paws would give a twitch. The pale light slanting through the leaves of the bush dappled her flanks beautifully, and for a moment, Link was in awe of her. Then, the tiredness that Dragonheart's story had held at bay came rolling over him in a dark wave. He closed his eyes, curled into a tight ball, and dropped off to sleep again.

* * *

So accustomed to watching the change in the leaves was Link that he was caught completely off-guard on the first brisk day of autumn. He was used to watching the Kokiri Forest shift steadily from a lush, verdant paradise to a veritable inferno of fire-colored leaves; the near-treeless mountain had no such transformation to undergo. The plants lost their leaves, yes, but without seeing them fall from the towering trees he had been raised under, it hardly seemed like greenleaf could be over. When he could escape from his duties, Link would often run up to the high ridge outside the training hollow and stare out across the sprawling land beneath the mountain. He could see the Forest's change from where he sat, but it felt so strange to watch it from the outside, almost surreal. He caught himself more than once wondering if any of the ForestClan cats noticed the things he always had, like the way the Deku Scrubs' head-leaves always matched those of the tree under which they lived, or change in the Wolfos-song that drifted in from the Lost Woods' darkest heart, or the Skullkids' strange meetings on nights when the moon was yellow.

He had to reason with himself for a good while before the seemingly sudden change in season made sense. He had joined MountainClan mid-greenleaf, and had been with them for three—going on four—moons by now. So many things had changed about Link that sometimes he wondered if it had actually been longer. His pawpads were calloused and tough; he could leap and skid and race across any rock on the mountain without flinching. Though still rather large, his paws no longer felt heavy and awkward at the ends of his legs. The lean muscles in his limbs were wiry and taut, capable of carrying him over and across great distances without tiring. His body was flexible, but strong, and its every movement—from the twitch of a whisker to the prey-killing blow of a forepaw—was under his total control. He could run and jump as well as any other Clanborn apprentice, and perhaps even a little better.

Just as Firetail had warned him on the day Link was accepted into the Clan, Lavastar was a fiercely tough mentor, especially when it came to fighting practice. More than a few times, she had taken her tabby apprentice to the training hollow and run him ragged from sunrise to sunset. Their sessions were long and demanding, but the young tom never complained, even when he would wake up the next day with his body as one giant ache. He could not forget the mission StarClan had charged him with, his task to protect the Clans. He did not know where or when he would be called upon to save them; he could only keep his body strong and his claws sharp, and wait. Lavastar seemed to remember his mission as well, for her training was quickly turning him into the MountainClan apprentice with the strongest set of fighting skills.

Even Goronback took a turn wrestling with the young cat, though it was a fight he would later regret asking for. It was a match which both Brownfur and Wolfosclaw, Goronback's sister and former mentor, watched eagerly. Sparring with a grown warrior rather than another apprentice was more of a challenge, but Link had been training with a cat much larger than the light brown tom. They had scuffled, swiping and boxing across the sandy floor of the camp, much to the amusement of their audience. Goronback was stronger physically, of that there was no doubt—but Link was smaller, and had speed on his side. The golden tabby tom had ducked out of the paw-fighting as soon as he could, knowing he would not win that way. He led Goronback on a merry chase after that, dodging away quickly and darting in for a few light blows. The mock fight had lasted longer than those watching expected it to, and did not end the way they had assumed. They were expecting to see Link squirming on the ground, struggling against the heavier cat pinning him there; instead, it was Link who came out on top, perched on the shoulders of a winded Goronback. The tawny warrior's shame was tempered by the sight of his young opponent collapsing in an exhausted heap outside the apprentice's den soon after they broke apart.

But something told Link that while all of this training would help him when his time came, there was something that he had yet to prepare himself for. As the blazing summer sunlight began to dim and the mountain moved into what the cats called leaf-fall, he began to get an inkling of what it was. It took him until the autumnal equinox—the day of balance, when the world saw light and darkness in equal measure—to fully realize what it was. He had never seen Death Mountain in any season outside of spring or summer. Though the cats around him had seen their territory in all seasons, _he_ had not. He had no idea what to expect from the colder days close at paw.

* * *

"Link! Hurry up!" Blazingpaw mewed eagerly, pouncing up and down at the top of the tunnel. "Wolfosclaw is calling the cats going to the Gathering together! We don't want to keep him waiting!"

"All right, I'll be right there. You don't have to wait for me, Blazingpaw."

The golden tabby tomcat rose to his feet, giving himself a hasty wash to clean his fur of scraps of bedding. He, like Blazingpaw and Firepaw, had been given the morning to sleep in preparation for the half-day journey to Fourstones. Glancing to the side, Link noted that the small mound of moss Magmaheart's ginger-furred daughter had claimed was empty; Firepaw was already awake.

A few quick licks later, Link bounded up the short tunnel and stepped out into the camp. Lavastar sat patiently near the entrance of the camp's thorn barrier, scrubbing her face mildly with a rust-orange paw. Wolfosclaw stood beside her, looking a little less relaxed that she. A small group of MountainClan cats had already assembled, although more were padding up to join the delegation. Link spotted Hillfire, Firepaw's mentor, chatting with Raggedstripe, who had been chosen to instruct Smokepaw in the warrior code. Dodongofang and Craterfire were also there, as well as Magmaheart and Brownfur. Dragonheart and Tornear strode stiffly up to join the group, followed closely by Sagewhisker and her apprentice, the newly-named Brushleaf. Blazingpaw was there, tucked up against her mentor's mottled flank; Firepaw was standing nearby, but away from the group a little, as if she had started towards the apprentices' den to fetch Link, but then thought better of it.

"There's Link now," he heard Wolfosclaw meow as he approached. "All we're waiting for now is Goronback, but he's out of camp."

"Where?" Lavastar asked. Wolfosclaw hesitated, glancing to the side uncomfortably. "Oh—I see. Well, what we eat must return to the earth some way. Has he gone far, Wolfosclaw?" The deputy shrugged, then scented the air.

"No, I can smell him coming now. If we left camp now, we'll catch him on his way back." Lavastar nodded, then stood and raised her tail to gather her Clan's attention. When all eyes were on her, she nodded and stepped through the gap in the thorns. Wolfosclaw followed her lead, and the group bound for the Gathering set off.

* * *

By the time MountainClan reached Fourstones, the full moon was high in the sky, a single golden eye gazing down from its dark face at the assembled Clans. The air was cool, and the restless winds that raced across the open plateau parted the thickening pelts of the cats there. Link gave the clear, inky sky a glance before starting off across the clearing with Blazingpaw and Firepaw at his side. Though he had been to two Gatherings already, he never quite got over his amazement at seeing all the different Clans coming together in harmony for the night. Somewhere in the middle of constantly resetting markers and challenging patrols who stepped over the invisible line, it was easy to forget that such a peace could exist.

"Now, last moon was yours and Smokepaw's first Gathering, wasn't it, Firepaw?" he heard Blazingpaw ask.

"Yes," the young she-cat replied without looking at her addresser. Her pale green eyes were wide as she gazed around at the cats she hadn't seen at the last Gathering. "Dodongofang and Fairypaw showed us all the important cats, and then Fairypaw introduced us to a few other apprentices." She paused. "Let's see…I think it was Mintpaw and Keatonpaw of ForestClan, Droppaw from FallsClan, and…Ravenpaw from FieldClan."

"Ravenpaw?" Blazingpaw and Link meowed together. Link felt his tail curl up happily at the mention of his FieldClan friend's name. He and Blazingpaw had met the genial black tomcat at their first Gathering. Blazingpaw attended the following full-moon meeting with her brother and seen Ravenpaw a second time; Link had attended the Gathering after that with Fairypaw, but Ravenpaw had not been in attendance. Neither Link nor Blazingpaw had been to the most recent Gathering, but the news that he had been seen then was heartening.

"How is Ravenpaw?" Link asked curiously. Firepaw shrugged, her eyes focused on something behind the golden tabby tom.

"Ask him yourself," she mewed.

Link whirled around to see the sleek, black cat sitting behind him, his tail wrapped over his paws patiently. There was a friendly glint in his ice-blue eyes as his rose to his feet to rub heads with Link. As he pressed his golden-striped flank closer, the MountainClan tom noted the solid bulge of Ravenpaw's muscles under his glossy pelt, and realized that his days of using his friend's apprentice name to greet him were probably numbered. They stepped back to look at each other. "You're getting taller, Link," Ravenpaw commented, amusement warming his winter-pale eyes. "Nice to see that there's hope you'll grow into those paws of yours!"

"It's great to see you again, Ravenpaw," Link mewed. "How have you been?"

"Well enough," the dark cat replied. "And you?"

"Just wonderful." Link looked his friend up and down with mock seriousness. "So, tell me—have you been hunting and eating horses or something? You say _I've_ gotten taller, but I can't say as though I remember you towering over me like this, Ravenpaw." Ravenpaw let out an amused _mrrow_.

"Maybe I have grown a bit since we last met," he admitted. "But, then again…" His pale eyes darted from side to side before narrowing conspiratorially. "I should hope I'm less apprentice-sized now, especially after what I heard a few days ago. Crowshadow is talking to Brindletail about having me assessed…I think it's happening tomorrow, or the day after."

"Congratulations!" Link purred.

"You lucky furball!" Blazingpaw added, swiping a paw playfully at their friend. Ravenpaw tipped up his chin proudly, seeming to revel in the news all over again. He had every right to be as proud as he was, Link realized. Apprentice training was no walk through a Fairygrove; it usually took a year—sometimes even a year and a few moons—of day-in, day-out work for a young cat to finish their training satisfactorily. Ravenpaw looked as though he was fast approaching the end of that year, and Link was more than a little envious.

"So, I take it MountainClan has just arrived?" Ravenpaw meowed. Link and Blazingpaw nodded. "Well, the moon's nowhere near high enough in the sky to begin the Gathering, which leaves us plenty of time for socializing before the leaders start scrapping."

"Scrapping?" Link echoed. Ravenpaw shrugged.

"Maybe not _scrapping_, per say," he admitted. "After all, there is peace on the night of the full moon. I guess none of you three have much experience in this field, but…" He sighed. "As leaf-fall moves into leaf-bare, the Gatherings will get a little more…tense. Clan leaders will be less forgiving of other Clan encroaching on their territory in the colder months than they were in the warmer ones—they're more likely to protest a breach of borders."

"Every Clan wants more land to hunt on when they prey gets scarcer," Link murmured thoughtfully. Ravenpaw nodded.

"One of my first Gatherings was in the middle of leaf-bare, and the arguing got so bad that StarClan sent a cloud to cover the moon!" he whispered, his bright blue eyes wide.

Blazingpaw and Firepaw both let out twin gasps of horror. Link looked at the two she-cats, then back at Ravenpaw, frowning a little. "You look so much like a MountainClan cat that I always forget you were born a rogue," the black tom said with a sigh. "You see, StarClan are always watching us. It is by their decree that we meet in peace every moon. If they feel we are breaking that rule, they will cover the moon and end the Gathering. It's a big deal because it rarely happens; but when it does, it comes so swiftly and decisively that it takes every cat by surprise."

"I hope no fights break out tonight," Firepaw mewed quietly. The three older apprentices turned to look at her for what felt like the first time. The ginger cat was pressed firmly down into a small hollow in the yellowing grass, her green eyes as round as full moons. The fur on her shoulders was stiffening—not quite bristled just yet, but not laying flat either. Ravenpaw gave her a gentle lick behind the ears.

"It's only the first moon of leaf-fall," he told her kindly. "There's still enough prey to go around. There might be some arguing, but I doubt it will escalate to anything worthy of StarClan's intervention. I think the four Clans will get along tonight." Firepaw seemed to relax at this, easing up out of her tense crouch a little.

"Speaking of the four Clans," Blazingpaw mewed, "is there anyone here that we would know, Ravenpaw?"

The glossy-pelted tom hummed thoughtfully under his breath. "Well, I came with Burntpaw, and I think she found a few ForestClan apprentices to hang around with. I saw Creekpaw in the group—you remember him, don't you? —and I scented Dustpaw as well. I didn't recognize a few of the FallsClan cats, but I think I may have seen Icepaw."

"Let's go find them!" Blazingpaw was bouncing up and down eagerly. Ravenpaw swatted her playfully with a paw, then struck off towards one of the corners of the wide plateau. Link trotted after him, with Blazingpaw close beside him and Firepaw padding along behind. As he was walking, the golden tom glanced off the tabletop, towards the mountain he now called his home. His blue eyes snapped back to Ravenpaw's ebony haunches almost instantaneously, and cold needles of anxiety stabbed into his pawpads.

Death Mountain was a towering, black peak in the night. Behind it, their rounded bodies turned silver by moonlight, was a mass of looming storm clouds.

**(1) The cats of Hyrule don't put stock in TigerClan and such. Instead, they give their ancestors a legendary status and make them as big and powerful as lions, tigers, etc.**


	14. Chapter 12

**Hey all! Ruthie here! As I'm sure you all are aware, the school year is going to be starting up soon (and for some people, it already has). However, this year is a spcial one for me: I'm going to be starting college this year! This means that Iprobably won't have as much time for writing as I have in previous months. Don't worry, I haven't given up writing entirely. I'm just warning that my updates will probably be even more sporadic than before. I'm posting this chapter the day before my move-in begins, so wish me luck!**

"…I took a deep breath and looked up at the sky before I jumped in, wondering if I would ever see the sun rising over the Great Fall again," the FallsClan she-cat was meowing as Link and the others padded up behind her. "Though we don't always admit it, every FallsClan cat does something like that; we know how to swim and we respect the river's strength—but fast-moving water can be unpredictable, and even FallsClan have drowned in the past. As soon as my head went underwater, I knew I had made a mistake by diving in so close to the falls. The current grabbed me like a hunter grips a fish—tightly and mercilessly. I struggled to get my head back above the water, but the instant I got close, a wave dragged me back under again. It pulled me down, down, down—I felt one of my hindpaws brush the stones on the bottom of the river, so smooth and cold and slippery."

_She's got a knack for telling stories,_ Link marveled, noting how captivated her audience was. The dark gray queen seemed to think the same; her paws kneaded the ground excitedly, and she looked at each of the listening apprentices individually before she continued, "I was scared, but my wits hadn't deserted me just yet. I knew that if I swam hard and fast enough, I could get myself out of this mess. I clawed my way back towards the pale light at the surface, my heart pounding. At first I thought I was safe, but then I felt the currents shifting around me and knew that if I didn't break the surface soon, I would get pulled back down. I kicked and kicked, but my head was starting to spin and my paws were getting weak. I'd been underwater for a long time at that point, and the river knew it. I could feel it toying with me while it tried to decide what to do with me: Let me breathe… or drown me? Be merciful…or punish the cat that dared to swim its waters?" Her green eyes narrowed as she leaned in closer, leaving her question dangling dramatically.

"What happened then, Riverpaw?" a tiny ForestClan tom asked in an awed whisper. Two of the three other listening apprentices added their questioning voices to his. Riverpaw, the storyteller, cocked her head back haughtily, but just as she was opening her mouth to answer, another voice cut in.

"The current dropped her onto a gravel spit a few tail-lengths downriver!"

The speaker was none other than Icepaw, the pale blue-gray cat Link had met at his first Gathering. Her amber-gold eyes were bright with mischief as she ducked under Riverpaw's angry swipe. The sound of another cat's voice had broken Riverpaw's spell; the listening apprentices were looking at each other now rather than her, purring with relief and chatting about the exciting tale. The dark gray cat looked at her former audience, then at the cat who had stolen them away from her. She frowned, an annoyed glare sparking in her eyes.

"How do you know anything, Icepaw?" Riverpaw spat, her ears flat. "It's not like you were there!"

"I heard you telling Whitewave about it when you got back to camp," Icepaw retorted smugly. Riverpaw scowled and aimed another blow, though it was clear she was not nearly as angry as she had been before. After doling out the slap, she turned and spotted Ravenpaw, Link, and the two she-cats. Her eyes brightened. "Did you catch the tail end of the story?" she asked.

"Yes," Ravenpaw assured her.

"Very well told, too," Link added, his tail curling up happily. The little bit he had heard had certainly excited him; he wished he could have heard whatever else there was to the story. Riverpaw beamed happily until Icepaw knocked into her from the side.

"Link! Blazingpaw! It's been moons since I last saw you two!" she mewed happily, rubbing heads in greeting with the two golden apprentices. Link felt a purr rumbling in his chest as his muzzle slid along the FallsClan queen's.

After his head-rubbing, the tabby tom stepped back, turning his eyes to Riverpaw and the other apprentices. The ForestClan tom who had asked Riverpaw the question was staring—_gawking_ might have been a better word, actually—at Link; Link figured this was probably his first Gathering, and he was merely staring at an unfamiliar cat. He took a few steps toward the tall MountainClan cat warily, then hesitated and made a wide pass around him to talk to Firepaw. The golden tabby cat angled one narrow ear slightly in their direction to catch their whispered conversation.

"Is that…_him?_" asked the ForestClan cat.

"Yep, that's him, Keatonpaw," Firepaw replied. "He's the one who used to be a rogue."

"He almost looks like he could be part of your Clan," Keatonpaw murmured. "Long legs, strong paws…But he's got those strange ears—I think he's listening to us!" He broke off in a squeak as Link turned.

"I was," he told them. A flare of annoyance flickered in Firepaw's eyes, but it was gone—or perhaps carefully concealed—in an instant. "So your name's Keatonpaw, is it? It suits you." Link was startled a little at how true the statement was. Keatonpaw's pelt was a muted sort of yellow-gold, with only faint suggestions of tabby stripes, and his fur darkened considerably on his paws and at the end of his tail. Keatonpaw squirmed a little, as if uncomfortable with the attention he was receiving. Link offered him an encouraging nod before turning back to Icepaw.

"Link! Good to see!" another familiar voice purred.

"Creekpaw, you look well!" Link pressed his shoulder against the brown and gray-streaked flank of the ForestClan cat. He stepped forward and butted heads with the pretty brown tabby standing close behind Creekpaw. "And Dustpaw, you too!"

"Looks like you found her again, huh, Keatonpaw?" Dustpaw purred, craning her neck to look at the younger apprentice from her Clan. Link turned to see Keatonpaw and Firepaw lying beside each other in the grass, caught in the middle of sharing tongues. "I'm telling you—that little furball wouldn't stop talking about the friend he'd made at the last Gathering and how much he wanted to see her again."

"Who can blame him?" Ravenpaw asked. "After all, the Gathering is supposed to be a time for all of us to come together under the eyes of StarClan. Besides, Keatonpaw's not the only cat who's made good friends at a Gathering." He winked at the two MountainClan apprentices. Link couldn't help a little wiggle of happiness; he added Ravenpaw to the list of cats he was glad he had come to know since entering the cats' world.

"So, how's the prey running in FieldClan?" Creekpaw asked; there was a quality to his voice that suggested the question was somewhat loaded. "You certainly look like you've been eating well, Ravenpaw." The black tom's whiskers twitched embarrassedly, and he glanced to the side. Creekpaw nodded to himself, and beside him, Dustpaw looked a little tense. Link glanced at Blazingpaw curiously, but the she-cat's gaze was just as questioning as his. The former Hylian turned back to the other apprentices, and saw that Creekpaw and Dustpaw were standing quite close to Icepaw and Riverpaw; the four of them were eyeing the FieldClan tom warily. The air seemed to crackle softly with tension, like dry leaves underpaw. No fur was raised, no claws unsheathed—but if no cat broke the silence, it might lead to that eventually.

"Link managed to take down one of our Clan's warriors in a scuffle," Blazingpaw chipped in eagerly, her voice sounding unusually loud in the quiet that had fallen between the young cats. The golden tabby tom standing beside her flinched, one of his long ears twisting flat in an outward display of his discomfort. The eyes of the other apprentices all turned to him, wide with curiosity. Link was glad his denmate had shattered the unsettling quiet, but he half wished that she had chosen a different way to break it. He sighed and pointed with his tail across the plateau, where Goronback lay beside his friend Sunleg.

"It was him—Goronback," he meowed. "He's one of the youngest warriors in MountainClan. And it wasn't like it was easy, either. I only won because I kept dodging around, and that wore him down enough that I could jump on his back." He shrugged. "It's not…that impressive, really. Anyway, every cat knows that Goronback is a better tracker than he is a fighter."

"Still, beating a warrior in a mock fight is not something most apprentices our age can claim to have done," Dustpaw pointed out mildly. She seemed to have eased out of her stiff stance, and her tone of voice was conversational and friendly. "I almost wish I could have seen it."

"Besides, it's something you can hold over his head for the rest of your life," Creekpaw added. He also looked more relaxed, though he was plainly avoiding looking at Ravenpaw. "We had something like that happen in our Clan." He turned to Dustpaw. "Remember what our mother told us, about the time when Snakepelt's different-litter brother Wildpaw wrestled her to the ground? Now Snakepelt's a senior warrior, and Wildfur _still_ teases her about that fight!"

Ravenpaw turned his face back to the other apprentices. He looked as though he was about to say something when a loud yowl cut him off. The four Clan leaders were in their positions at the top of the rock formation that gave Fourstones its name. The black tomcat flicked his tail, motioning the others to follow him; he led the way to a space near the middle of the crowd of cats, where he settled down beside a she-cat whose fur was spattered with patches of brown and ginger. Link sat down in the grass beside him, squirming a little as the dry, yellow blades prodded him. _The seasons are changing,_ he thought mildly.

Dekustar, the white-pelted leader of ForestClan, stepped forward first. "ForestClan is doing well," she meowed, gazing down from her high perch with bright green eyes. "One of the Twoleg kits that live at the edge of our territory got a little too close to our camp a few days ago, but a patrol of warriors was quick to drive it away."

"When greenleaf draws to a close," Creekpaw mewed quietly, while his leader continued speaking, "they always seem to forget that the forest is ours." Link nodded in agreement, recalling his days living with the Kokiri—the Twoleg kits he knew Dekustar was talking about. Autumn—or leaf-fall, as the cats called it—was the time of one of their grander festivals, when the whole tribe ran around the Forest to gather colorful leaves. The leaves would be hung everywhere, as a lasting bit of color to brighten the bleak, gray season ahead. The golden tabby turned to his ForestClan friend and opened his mouth to ask if Creekpaw's Clan ever gathered the bright, fiery foliage to decorate their dens, but stopped when he heard the voice of Tawnystar.

"FieldClan would speak next," he called, his voice ringing out in the cool night air. "Unfortunately, the end of greenleaf has never been an easy time for us, and this year is no different. As you know, this is the time of year when the Twolegs living at the horseplace are most active—they take out their horses and their carts nearly every day, which frightens the prey. My Clan is hungry; Whiteflower's kits are eating fresh-kill now, and it won't be long before Seednose's litter does too." He turned briefly to Splashstar and Dekustar, who had been eyeing him the entire time with something approaching annoyance. "I confess that I have sent my cats onto ForestClan and FallsClan land to hunt, but I only did so because I had no other choice."

Link expected yowls of outrage, but the most he heard were murmurs of grim acknowledgement. Clearly, the two Clans were well aware of FieldClan's hunting. He suddenly remembered Creekpaw's question to Ravenpaw, and the tense moments that had followed it. Now, as he looked around, the golden tabby tom saw that the four apprentices were sitting closer to each other than to Ravenpaw, even though they had followed him to the spot he chose. Blazingpaw's warm, long-furred shoulder pressed against his, and Link felt the lean muscles beneath her pelt hardening with tension. He twined his tail around hers and turned his attention back to the rocks.

"While it's noble that you would admit to such a thing," Dekustar was telling Tawnystar, her voice edged with the hint of a growl, "it does not change the principle of the matter, Tawnystar. We know and understand that the start of leaf-fall is hard on your Clan, but that does not give you the right to hunt _our_ prey."

"Our kits will starve!" the brown tom hissed in reply.

"And what of _our_ kits?" Splashstar asked, her eyes narrowed to dark slits as she took a stand beside Dekustar. "FieldClan is not much bigger than any other Clan here; in fact, it may well be smaller than another Clan. If you hunt another Clan's prey, you might cause _their_ starvation come leaf-bare. I never gave you permission to hunt on my Clan's land."

"Since when does FallsClan need _land_ to hunt?" Tawnystar countered; Splashstar flinched back, clearly offended by his question. The fur on the FieldClan tom's shoulders was starting to rise, though his tone of voice said he was not angry yet. None of the leaders were…but their patience was obviously wearing thin. "Splashstar, your Clan are swimmers—you take your prey from the river."

"When it isn't _frozen!_" a dark FallsClan cat yowled as he leapt to his paws, his erect tail bristled out to twice its normal size. A few of his Clanmates raised their voices in his support. Link tore his eyes away from the leaders to look down at the other apprentices. Aside from Blazingpaw and Firepaw, the others—Icepaw, Riverpaw, Creekpaw, Dustpaw, and Keatonpaw—were eyeing Ravenpaw and the mottled FieldClan queen beside him with distrust. The black cat had his face to the side and his ears low; if Tawnystar was telling the truth, Link thought, then Ravenpaw may have gotten as big as he was by eating another Clan's prey.

Lavastar and Tawnystar both raised their voices in a deafening caterwaul, silencing the protesting voices that had broken out across the plateau. The MountainClan leader stepped between Tawnystar and the other two leaders roughly, her ginger fur stiff along her shoulders. "Cease this at once!" she snarled. "Have you forgotten StarClan's truce?"

Link felt his belly twist for a moment, remembering the boiling storm clouds he had seen before the Gathering had even begun. Along with nearly every other cat at Fourstones, the tabby tom tipped his head back to look up nervously. The sky was clear and empty, save for the round golden orb and the scattering of dewy stars around it. Tawnystar gave a bitter purr of amusement. "Clearly, StarClan approves of something we've done tonight." Lavastar glowered at him out of the corners of her narrowed eyes. Her ears were flat to the sides of her skull.

"This is senseless," the muscular queen snapped. "Tawnystar, FieldClan's land is not one-sided. We generally regard the boundary of your land to be from the river to the Great Stone Wall, but does the land itself not stretch _beyond_ that wall? As I recall from my journeys to share tongues with StarClan at the Mooncave, there is quite a field beyond that wall. Have you hunted there before you encroached on the hunting grounds of others?"

"Lavastar, believe me when I tell you that there is no prey in that area—especially not in this season," Tawnystar meowed. "The Twolegs take their carts down that part of the field as well. There is no other place for FieldClan to turn for prey."

"There is one," the dark ginger cat murmured. Tawnystar's ears pricked up with interest. "I will discuss the matter with my Clan and send a runner to you when we have reached a decision, but I may have land to offer you." Link waited for shouts of displeasure to rise up from his Clanmates at their leader's statement, but none did. Lavastar's talk of consulting her Clan had been a wise move to keep her cats calm; the tabby tom had expected nothing less from his mentor.

"What land is this?" the brown cat asked. His voice was a little softer, almost awed, and his fur fell flat to his shoulders once more. Lavastar stayed tense.

"MountainClan does most of their hunting on the mountain," she told him, "but our territory does cover a small strip of land beside the river. If my Clan agrees, and if you agree to stop trespassing on the other Clans' lands to hunt…I will give you permission to hunt there until newleaf."

While Tawnystar muttered his stunned thanks and Lavastar nodded in grudging response, murmurs broke out over the plateau. No cat could believe that Lavastar would be willing to give up a part of her land with the leaner moons approaching, and more than a few warriors were eyeing the ginger she-cat with new respect—or else scorn. There were whispers of how selfless Lavastar was for sacrificing part of her own territory to keep FieldClan fed, and to appease ForestClan and FallsClan; those quiet mews of praise mingled with mutters of how foolish and weak she was because of how easily she had given up MountainClan land.

Link heard both in seemingly equal measure, and he wasn't entirely sure of what to think. He admired his mentor for her actions, especially how she would consult her warriors before deciding either way, but there was a niggling doubt in the back of his mind. He recalled his first day out with Lavastar, and how vehemently she had rejected his suggestion of the four Clans working together for survival. He'd gone on enough border patrols and corrected enough scent markers to have developed a territorial inclination. He had a sense of at least partial ownership of the mountain whose trails he raced across every day, and even of the stretch of grassy ground beside the river. It was true, he admitted, MountainClan rarely hunted on that piece of their territory…but it was still _their_ territory. But if FieldClan were truly in danger of starving…

Link turned to Ravenpaw and was surprised to see that the black cat did not look thrilled at all by his Clan's possible victory. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and a few disgusted wrinkles appeared on the bridge of his nose. His burly frame was trembling slightly as he sat. The golden tabby tom prodded him in the side. "Ravenpaw, is everything all right?" he asked gently. One icy eye opened to a pale sliver.

"He's lying," Ravenpaw hissed, and though Link was standing right next to him, his voice was nearly lost in the comments of the other cats. The tabby tom stretched his head closer to his friend, pricking his ears to hear better. "He's lying, Link."

"What?" A cold shock ran through Link's body, a painful jolt that set his heart racing faster. Ravenpaw's other eye opened, and in the twin orbs was a kind of sad apology.

"Maybe not lying, but certainly exaggerating," Ravenpaw admitted, his voice still soft enough to be hidden by the others' meowing. "Our Clan isn't starving, not really. It's true that the beginning of leaf-fall is rough for my Clan, but we've always survived it in the past. Sure, when the situation is at its most dire, we _are_ sometimes forced to take another Clan's prey…but only then. Only when we have no choice."

"And do you have a choice now?"

"I would say so." Ravenpaw shrugged. "It's been hard on Burntpaw and me these past few weeks, having to consciously cross scent markers in order to hunt. Sure, we hunt on our own land, but we're also told to cross over to other territories to hunt as well."

"If you ask my opinion," the brown- and ginger-furred cat beside Ravenpaw added, padding around the black tom so she could join their quiet conversation, "Tawnystar is trying to make a move for more land before leaf-bare is in full swing. It seems to me that he's building up our Clan now so that when he lays claim to more land, he'll have a strong force of warriors to back his claims." Link looked her over and realized that she was nearly as large as Ravenpaw, with the same impressive musculature. Dimly, he realized that the side conversations around him had ended, and that Lavastar was now speaking. He didn't care; what the two FieldClan cats were saying was far more interesting to him than his own Clan's news.

"It might not have been wise for Lavastar to give him what he wanted," Ravenpaw murmured seriously. "I'm worried that he'll take that as a sign of weakness, and that he'll make a move for more of your land before leaf-bare is through."

"What's he going to take, the mountain?" Link shook his head. "Besides, Ravenpaw…Lavastar hasn't _given_ him anything yet, except the promise that she would consider letting FieldClan hunt on that strip of grass." As jovial as he tried to sound, the golden tomcat still couldn't shake a feeling of unease at Ravenpaw's words: _I'm worried that he'll take that as a sign of weakness._ If his time as a cat had taught Link one thing, it was that appearing weak was the worst thing a cat or Clan could possibly do. These cats took advantage of the weak, and with hungry times close at paw, no Clan could afford to be taken advantage of. As friendly and peaceful as they were under the full moon, the Clans were fiercely territorial in their day-to-day life. More than once, a border patrol Link had been a part of had met with cats from FallsClan or FieldClan, and that meeting had ended in an all-out rumble, with reddened claws and screaming warriors.

"Just…" Ravenpaw hesitated, the words _just be careful_ frozen on his muzzle; Link could see him grappling with his loyalties for a moment—his loyalty to his Clan, and his loyalty to his MountainClan friend. While he wrestled with indecision, a few cats around the plateau cried out the names of FallsClan's newest warriors, Wavesong and Algaefur. The black tom let out an explosive sigh. "Just don't forget that when leaf-bare comes, your Clan might want its land back, and that if we get it, FieldClan certainly won't give it up because it will be ours for the season," he meowed finally, attempting a posture of stiff pride. Link nodded, unsure of whether or not he should try to save his friend face—or if Ravenpaw had even _lost_ face to begin with.

"Understood," he mewed. _I've got to make sure Lavastar knows that Tawnystar wasn't being completely truthful,_ he told himself, curling his tail snugly over his paws and nodding. Ravenpaw also nodded, although he clearly still did not know what to make of the situation. Link could understand his feelings; he wondered if the black apprentice's actions that night would have been considered disloyal to his Clan. After all, he was giving information to a cat in an enemy Clan—never mind the Gathering truce.

Link tuned in to the leaders just in time to heard Splashstar meow, "If no cat has anything they would like to add, then I think we can safely say this Gathering is over." She leapt down from the high rock and called her Clan to her side with a wave of her tail. Link watched her leave and saw her murmuring urgently into the silver ear of Zorafin, her deputy. Icepaw and Rivepaw touched noses with the other apprentices, though they were decidedly reserved in their farewell to the two FieldClan cats, and padded behind the rest of their departing Clan.

Dekustar called for ForestClan next, and made an impressive leapt down from the ledge to gather them. On her way to meet her own deputy, she brushed flanks with Crowshadow. The FieldClan tom jerked away from her touch—angrily or guiltily, Link couldn't say for sure. Creekpaw and Dustpaw left then, with Keatonpaw in tow; they seemed to be a little more comfortable around Ravenpaw and Burntpaw than the FallsClan cats had. _Well, Tawnystar was a little less agreeable to FallsClan than he was to ForestClan,_ Link reasoned, recalling how the brown leader had implied that the water-loving cats could not hunt outside of the river. ForestClan left Fourstones, headed towards their shadow-dappled forest home.

Now it was only FieldClan and MountainClan left on the high plateau, and the night wind tousled their thickening pelts restlessly as it raced over the open space. Link looked around, noticing how cats from both Clans seemed a little ill at ease. There was no anger in the air, but there was a sickening sense of tension and uncertainty. _The Gathering is over,_ the golden tabby thought. _But the full moon is still overhead. Is StarClan's truce still in effect, or will they not move to stop us if a fight breaks out?_ He felt Blazingpaw jab him in the ribs with a paw, and followed the she-cat's green gaze up to the rock formation.

"I am extremely grateful to you, Lavastar," Tawnystar was saying. The ginger-furred leader of MountainClan turned her head to the side, and Link saw a proud tilt to her chin.

"Don't thank me, Tawnystar," she meowed in a low voice. "I haven't agreed to give you anything yet. The territory you seek to hunt on is not mine alone; it belongs to all of my Clan, and I will gather their opinions before I make any decisions regarding it." She turned back to the tom. "And I expect that you will keep your warriors on _your_ side of the river until I come to a decision."

"Certainly," Tawnystar purred. Link leaned forward with interest, pricking up his ears to catch their conversation. He could see a calculating glimmer in Tawnystar's eyes, and from the look on his mentor's face, she saw it as well. Her green eyes narrowed to emerald slits.

"Your warriors," she repeated, "_and_ your apprentices, _and_ your elders." Tawnystar flinched imperceptibly. "Your _Clan_ will stay off of that piece of land by the river until I make a choice. If we smell your markers on our territory, we will wait for your next border patrol and teach them a lesson they'll not soon forget."

"I wouldn't dream of encroaching on MountainClan territory, Lavastar." Tawnystar's voice had a barely-audible edge of condescension; his tail gave a lax flip, and he turned to leap down from the rock. At the edge of the ledge, though, he turned over his shoulder. "Especially not after you've been so kind to my Clan in our time of trouble." Then, in a sinuous ripple of brown fur, he was on the ground and flicking his tail for his Clan to follow him. Burntpaw heaved herself to her feet and trotted across the plateau after her leader; Ravenpaw hesitated for a moment. He touched noses with Link, Blazingpaw, and Firepaw, then nodded his goodbye. Link watched him go, his stomach twisting into a knot. When Lavastar's heavy paws landed on the crunchy grass of the plateau, her Clan darted to her side without any signaling. Every cat seemed eager to leave, and Lavastar looked like she felt the same.

As MountainClan began padding towards the rocky ledges they used to reach Fourstones, Link strove to squeeze through the others to reach his mentor's side. Even if it was only to tell Lavastar that he wanted to speak to her in private, he had to talk to her before she made the final decision. _She has to know what Ravenpaw told me,_ the golden tom thought as he pushed his way between Goronback and Dodongofang. The two tomcats grumbled in protest, and with an apologetic mew, Link moved in the direction of Hillfire and his apprentice. He hoped to glide between them, but the instant his forepaw came to rest in their midst, Hillfire took a purposeful step towards Firepaw, pushing the older apprentice away. He spotted a gap next to Magmaheart and eagerly squeezed himself in. From there, he sucked in his breath and slipped between Raggedstripe and Brownfur; Lavastar was just ahead!

The golden tabby tom drew in breath to meow his mentor's name, only to let it out in a disappointed sigh as Lavastar vanished over the edge of the plateau. He heard the burly she-cat's paws thump against the rocky spurs as she made her descent, and surged forward to catch up, not slowing until he reached the front of the group. Wolfosclaw, next in line after Lavastar, eyed him with hesitation and confusion, but relented after Link shot him an urgent look. Nodding gratefully, the apprentice slipped in front of his Clan deputy and pounced after the dark ginger cat. She had a decent lead on him, the appropriate spacing between cats making the jump down from Fourstones, but Link was determined to catch up. He leapt and skidded, panting hard. He wanted to speak to her before any other cat, to let her know what he knew.

He was nearly at the bottom before he Lavastar realized the cat following hot on her tail was not her deputy. She made the final, flying leap to the ground and turned, her head tilted quizzically to the side. "Link?" she meowed. "What's the matter? Is something wrong?"

"Lavastar…I—I need to speak…with you," Link panted, a little worn out from his rapid leaping after his mentor. Lavastar licked his head in a soothing gesture, and the tabby tom gulped for air. "Before you…decide on what to…to do with Fie—FieldClan. Can be…anytime, but it has to be…with just you."

The she-cat's green eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she took in the sight of her apprentice. Finally, she nodded. "All right. I will be addressing the rest of the Clan tomorrow after the sun has set. When every cat who wants to speak has laid out their opinion and the Clan as a whole has discussed the matter, we will talk." Link heaved a sigh of relief as Wolfosclaw padded up behind him.

"Looks like you managed to catch up to her," the deputy murmured cooly. Link nodded his thanks, and he saw a friendly gleam in the older tom's green eyes, as if the apprentice's mad dash had amused rather than annoyed him. "Good. You looked like it was too important to wait."

Lavastar gave her apprentice a warm look, then drew her tail over Wolfosclaw's shoulders to bring him closer to her. The two cats padded in the direction of the Longtunnel, practically cheek-to-cheek, speaking in urgent mews. The golden tabby tom watched them for a few moments, then padded back to the wall to meet up with Blazingpaw again. The golden queen seemed super-charged with energy, almost as if the tension at the Gathering had excited rather than worried her. The two young cats fell in step together, the gold in their brushing pelts highlighted by the light of the moon hanging high above them.


	15. Chapter 13

As the group from MountainClan neared the end of the Longtunnel, Link realized that the storm clouds he had seen behind Death Mountain the previous night were nothing to fear. Pricking up his long, steeply-pointed ears, he heard the repetitive, droning patter of raindrops on mountain stone, and he knew that the season of rain had come. Blazingpaw had told him that—almost as if to make up for the long, hot, and rainless moons of greenleaf—the skies opened up and drenched the mountain for the first moon or so of leaf-fall. As welcome as the water was, it made the MountainClan cats' already-challenging lives a little more dangerous, especially when their steeper trails turned to slick slides that could fling an unwary warrior off the side of the mountain. The scattered, winding streams around their rocky territory were known to flood overnight, and mudslides were not uncommon on some of the steeper parts of the mountain.

Link felt a cool breeze drift over him from the half-circle of gray light that marked the end of the tunnel, and he closed his eyes to savor it. The trek back from the Gathering had been full of uneasy murmurs and feline bodies pressing close to each other in solidarity. Now, as the fresh, clean, wet smell of the falling rain filled his nose, the golden tabby tom found he was able to shake away the negative feelings the tense Gathering had weighed him down with. He heard the appreciative meows of the cats around him, and knew that after the journey they had shared in the Longtunnel, he wasn't the only one who wanted to feel the wind in his whiskers. The warmth of the Clan's pelts and breath had made the tunnel uncomfortably humid. He felt Blazingpaw's pace quicken beside him, and lengthened his stride to match that of the she-cat. The end of the passage drew closer and closer, and the light that streamed from it seemed to grow brighter with each step. Finally, with a huff of triumph, the two young cats bounded out of the rock tunnel and into the pouring rain.

The golden tabby tom stood to the side of the Longtunnel for a few moments, his chin tipped toward the dull gray skies above him. He felt the cold drops drumming against his lean body, shivering with delight and disgust as they soaked into his pelt. The ground beneath his paws was no longer hard-baked and dry; the rain had been falling for at least an hour by now, and that which had not run off had been sucked up greedily by the thirsty earth. A brisk wind, nothing like the gentle breeze Link had felt in the Longtunnel, reminded the tabby that the weather had taken a turn for the colder. He shuddered and trotted up after the rest of his Clan as they made their way home.

By the time they reached the camp, the rain had picked up in force, and the MountainClan cats were soaked through. The sprawling, dusty clearing that was the MountainClan camp was dusty no longer; puddles dotted the dark brown ground, their surfaces marred by the expanding ripples of myriad falling raindrops. Eyes glinted from the shadows of the dens as the cats that had stayed behind watched their Clanmates' return. Sagewhisker and Brushleaf separated from the others and padded up the narrow path to their cave; as if that were the signal, the rest of the delegation split. Tornear and Dragonheart, leaning on each other for support, walked stiffly towards the fallen log they called their den. Wolfosclaw struck off for the warriors' cave, with the rest of the grown cats following behind. Link looked at Blazingpaw, whose long fur was clinging tightly to her frame, and Firepaw, and headed toward their bush.

The bottom of the tunnel that led to the den below was slick and muddy, and difficult to follow down without slipping. Link picked his way carefully down, splaying his toes wide to get a better grip on the lumpy sides of the passageway. By the time he was nearing the end of the incline, he could hear Firepaw making her way into the den as well. The golden tabby tom stepped to the side, settling down against the wall while he licked the rain from his pelt.

The apprentices' den was warmer than the camp, and dry, though a few stray splatters of rain dripped between the tightly-woven branches every so often. It was pleasantly dark, and the gaps in the bush's branches glowed with a little of the cold, gray light outside. In the shadowed corner, Link saw the gleam of amber eyes as Smokepaw raised her head curiously. The dark gray she-cat's pelt blended into the dimness so well, he hadn't seen her at first. The pale pelts of Fairypaw and Ghostpaw, much more visible in the dark den, were huddled together towards the spindly trunk of the den-bush, and their flanks moved gently with the rhythm of sleepy breath. Link felt a little stab of jealousy; _he_ certainly wouldn't mind Fairypaw's blue-white fur brushing up against his own. In fact, he wouldn't have minded any kind of contact with the beautiful, hostile she-cat. Though he denied it hotly when others asked, the golden tabby tom admitted to himself that he had some amount of feeling for his fellow apprentice, as venomous as she was towards him.

Smokepaw stretched stiffly in the corner, then rose and bounded over to touch noses with Link, leaping nimbly over the sleeping cats as she did so. "How was the Gathering?" she asked excitedly, stepping back from the tall tom. "Did you see a lot of cats? Did Lavastar challenge FieldClan about the markers on our side of the river? What did Tawnystar say? Was Ravenpaw there? Did you know he was asking if Firepaw and I knew you at the last Gathering?"

"Which question would you like answered first?" Link queried, shaking his head with an amused _mrrow. _Smokepaw hesitated, as if she were actually trying to decide which answer she wanted the most. Before she could choose, though, Firepaw entered the underground den. The charcoal-furred queen darted over to her ginger sister like a streak of black lightning; the two she-cats rubbed heads in greeting as Firepaw began babbling excitedly about her night.

The two sisters' conversation was quiet, and their soft mews filled the den with a kind of whispering sound that seemed to rise and fall in counterpoint to the drumming rain. Fairypaw's gentle breaths harmonized peacefully with Ghostpaw's occasional rasping snores. Link yawned as he licked his fur dry; the previous night's escapade was finally catching up with him. Something told him that—for the cats who had gone to the Gathering, at least—today was going to be a relatively lazy day. Giving his pelt a final shake, the damp tabby padded over to his own nest and plumped up his mossy bedding. After a few circles, he lay down and curled into a loose ball. His blue eyes shifted upwards, where the silvery shafts of weak, leaf-fall daylight seemed to glow like stars, and he gave a contented sigh. Just as he was preparing to drift off, a muffled hiss from the top of the tunnel reached his ears.

"Fft! That's not going to work."

_Blazingpaw is still up there,_ Link recalled mildly. He shrugged, figuring that a smart she-cat like Blazingpaw was more than capable of getting herself into the den when the floor of tunnel was slick with mud. _She'll figure out a way._

"Mrrow-_howww_!"

The piercing yowl of excitement rang out through the silent den like a crack of overhead thunder, and the mud-streaked cat that zoomed into the den seemed to be a flash of lightning come too late. Ghostpaw and Fairypaw jerked up their heads with startled meows, scrabbling in opposite directions as Blazingpaw slid on her heels toward the spot where they had lain. The muddy queen seemed to have exchanged her golden tabby stripes for those of brown and gray. There was a crash as cat collided with bush-trunk, and gathered precipitation rained down from the shivering branches above. Blazingpaw's green eyes were shining with excitement as she lay, sprawled and panting, on the exposed, vein-like roots of the bush. After a few moments, she pushed herself up and shook her thick, drenched, mud-heavy pelt.

"That was fun!" she declared, flicking her tail toward the now-slipperier tunnel. "You all have _got_ to try it!"

Fairypaw's lip curled slightly. "Blazingpaw, you're a total mess," she mewed scornfully. "And you got mud everywhere when you shook off." She indicated the flecks of brown mud on her once-immaculate pelt with the tip of her long tail. Blazingpaw dipped her head apologetically. As Fairypaw inspected the damage to her nest, she let out a low rumble. "And you got mud all over my moss, too!"

"You can take from my nest if you want, Fairypaw," Link offered, curling his tail up in a friendly way. The white she-cat barely glanced at him.

"There are other nests here I can take from," she meowed airily, flicking one of her paws in the direction of Brownfur and Goronback's old nests. "And those other nests smell like MountainClan, not rogue."

Link saw Blazingpaw bristle defensively, though mud slicked her fur flat in places and gave her strange half-hackles. "Last time I checked, Fairypaw, Link smells like MountainClan," she growled. "He's been living with us long enough that he's taken on our scent. So what if you weren't thrilled when Lavastar took him in? Get over it already!"

"Blazingpaw…" Link whispered, resting his tail on his friend's shoulder. He appreciated her sticking up for him, but he didn't want to see a fight break out between the two she-cats. He didn't expect a fight, per say; Blazingpaw wouldn't want to tussle, and Fairypaw wouldn't have scrapped even if her opponent did. Either way, though, he'd seen enough tense cats at the Gathering, and he was not keen on seeing more in his own Clan camp. He looked from Blazingpaw to Fairypaw with mild anxiety. Not surprisingly, the blue-white cat was the first to back away. She shrugged in a carefree manner.

"Well, either way, I wouldn't want to deprive my denmate of a comfortable sleeping area," Fairypaw purred softly. "Keep your moss, Link. I'll just take from some of the older nests." She padded towards the back of the den, her thickly-furred tail waving lightly behind her. Blazingpaw snorted, rolling her eyes behind the other cat's back.

The brief confrontation was over almost as quickly as it started, and Link barely smothered a yawn. He flopped down in his nest once more, grunting with playful anger as the still-muddy Blazingpaw pressed her flank against his. After his late night and long travels, though, he could have slept with just about anything shoved up against him. The tabby tom sighed quietly and closed his eyes.

* * *

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Highbranch for a Clan meeting!"

The cats of MountainClan were not long in answering Lavastar's summons; it seemed that those who had not attended the Gathering were already well-informed of the discussion their leader hoped to hold. The pouring rain had slacked off to a fine, almost misty drizzle, and the cats' eyes glowed gauzily in the dusky light. Every cat who was able to join the meeting—elders, warriors, apprentices, queens—settled down beneath the warped tree limb, muttering softly to one another.

Link sat down between Blazingpaw and Ghostpaw with the other apprentices, his blue gaze centered on the dark ginger queen perched above him. Lavastar's thick pelt was fluffed out against the cool evening air, and the gentle rain collected on the hairs like dewdrops. Her green eyes were calm, serious—but certainly not worried. She stared down at her assembled Clan proudly, and meowed, "I do not doubt that word of what happened at the Gathering has already spread to every den. In a way, I offered Tawnystar and his cats our strip of land by the river as hunting territory during leaf-bare; however, he will not be permitted to set paw on it unless MountainClan agrees wholeheartedly. The seasons are changing and the air is growing colder, and when leaf-bare comes, I will not have fighting inside my Clan because of what we agree tonight." Her eyes gleamed in the low light. "Does any cat wish to speak first?"

Amid the quiet mews that broke out, Swiftwind stood; with her black fur, she was nearly lost in the twilight. Cats fell silent and stared at the queen. "I would speak, Lavastar," she mewed. The ginger cat above nodded for her to continue. "I wasn't at the Gathering last night, and so I won't base my judgments on things that I heard secondpaw from my denmates. I've seen FieldClan in leaf-fall and leaf-bare, and it's true that their hunting gets harder in those seasons. They're the slimmest cats at cold-season Gatherings, and they do deserve some sympathy for the hardships they face." She paused, closing her gray eyes briefly. "I say we allow them to hunt on that piece of land. After all, it's only for one season, and if we set the terms strictly enough, we have nothing to worry our pelts over."

"I agree with Swiftwind," Craterfire added, rising to his feet. "And I'll say this much as well: We rarely hunt off-mountain, even in leaf-bare. I won't deny that there are usually some good finds on that little strip of land—I think the prey get fat at Twolegplace and come down to where we can find them. But, really, how often do we send hunting patrols down there? I wouldn't be terribly bothered if FieldClan hunted there to keep their Clan alive, just as long as they don't try moving anywhere else on our land."

Murmurs of agreement greeted both Craterfire and Swiftwind's words; cats were nodding their heads sagely in the darkness. Link felt anxiety begin to prick his pawpads. What would happen if the entire Clan agreed to let FieldClan hunt? Lavastar had said she would only act in accordance with what the whole Clan wanted. What if he turned out to be the only cat to object? The golden tabby tom squirmed uncomfortably, biting his tongue and begging StarClan that _some_ cat would raise their voice in protest. Otherwise, he would be forced to do so, and he had already decided that his strongest argument was for his leader's ears alone.

He never thought he would be happy to hear Hillfire's meow.

"Have you all forgotten the heart of the matter?" the ginger cat growled angrily. "It shouldn't matter that FieldClan has a difficult start to the colder seasons; this is _our land_ we're debating about. It's been part of MountainClan's territory for as long as any of us can remember. Besides, any cat who was at the Gathering could tell you that FieldClan are doing just fine. They're all as fat as fish!"

"But they've been stealing their prey from other Clans!" Magmaheart called, her eyes narrowed slightly. Hillfire turned to her.

"We don't know if that's been their only food source, though," he countered. "For all we know, the fields could be bursting with creatures waiting to become fresh-kill, and they're just supplementing their hunts with food from ForestClan and FallsClan."

"The fields are never 'bursting' with anything but Twolegs in leaf-fall," Magmaheart responded. Link felt the cats around him start to tense as the two warriors' argument escalated. Sandspots and Swoopingclaw stepped forward and pressed their shoulders to Hillfire's in support; Moonflower and Goronback stood their ground beside Magmaheart. Lavastar let out a short growl of warning that rang through the misty air, and every cat save Hillfire relaxed. The ginger tomcat continued to eye Magmaheart with a kind of stiff scorn. The she-cat glanced away.

"If we give him that piece of territory, Tawnystar will stop sending hunting patrols to ForestClan and FallsClan's lands," she pointed out mildly, but her tone of voice said she was done belaboring the subject. "And if he does that, there will be some degree of peace between those three Clans."

"We can't be sure of that," Dodongofang rumbled calmly from where he sat; Fairypaw, seated at her mentor's feet, beamed up at him. "Besides, if we were to give that land to FieldClan, even for the one season, we would seem soft and weak to the other Clans." He glanced around at the cats who were nodding at his words. "Before we know it, Splashstar will be saying 'Oh, Lavastar, the river is frozen, and I know that the piece of land outside the Longtunnel is neutral territory—but can you please let FallsClan claim it for themselves?' If we give FieldClan that land, Splashstar, and maybe even Dekustar, will make demands of us, because they will see us as being weak; and leaf-bare is not a season where we want our Clan to seem weak."

The Clan were murmuring amongst themselves; ears were twitching, tails were flicking nervously. Giving away a piece of territory was not as simple as giving away a piece of fresh-kill; it was not a decision to be handled lightly, even if it was only a temporary affair. Link could hear the scattered viewpoints of his Clanmates, whispering around each other in the softly falling rain. He pricked up his ears to hear them, curious to know what the majority said. He barely noticed Lavastar approaching him; the massive, ginger she-cat tapped his shoulder lightly with her tailtip, and flicked her head in the direction of her den. "Wolfosclaw will mediate the discussions for the moment," she murmured. "Come." Glancing at his denmates—all of whom were staring at him curiously—Link nodded and followed after Lavastar.

Link had only been in his mentor's den once, and that was to change out her bedding and leave her the three pikas he had caught earlier. He slipped into the small opening behind her, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the even lower light. Lavastar's den was a small, roughly oval-shaped cave that had been carved into the rock wall of the camp by the questing roots of the tree that held the Highbranch. It was rough on the sides, with the thick and warped roots of the tree clinging doggedly to any chink or spur of the stone they could find. Her nest was huddled at the far edge of the cave, a pile of moss and fallen leaves that radiated the dark ginger cat's scent. Lavastar took a few steps towards her nest, then stopped and turned, flicking her tail for her apprentice to draw nearer.

"Now, Link," she purred, "what is it?"

The golden tabby tom felt his heart rate pick up nervously, and he shifted from paw to paw without speaking. He wasn't entirely sure how to begin; half-formed sentences flew through his mind at breakneck speed, flickering on his tongue before vanishing completely. Lavastar's green eyes glinted an unearthly bright shade of their color in the darkness, and Link could hear her tail sweep across the ground to curl over her paws. She sat there, patient as a caterpillar inside its cocoon, while he fumbled for words. Finally, he spoke. "I have a friend in FieldClan," he mewed softly, glancing over his shoulder at the gray-lit entrance of the den; he could hear the others still speaking amongst themselves, but he was still afraid of being overheard. "He—he told me that what Tawnystar said at the Gathering…isn't exactly true."

Instead of questioning him, the burly queen merely nodded and sighed. "I suspected as much," she breathed, so softly that Link wasn't sure if he was supposed to have heard her. She turned back to him. "What else did your friend say?"

"He said that hunting hasn't been as bad as Tawnystar claims," the golden tabby replied. "And that he and the other apprentices are often told to hunt on other Clans' lands as well as their own." He paused, wondering if he should pass along Ravenpaw's warning of his leader's intentions; the memory of the black tom's dire, whispered words sent him shivering. He must have stiffened noticeably, because Lavastar spoke in the silence that followed his sentences.

"Does he question his leader's motives?" she asked. "Or does he accept them just as the warrior code says he should?"

Link flinched. Of course, some cat was bound to bring the warrior code into this mess! And who better than Lavastar, one of the cats responsible for upholding it and making sure it was carried out accordingly in MountainClan? It seemed to Link that the warrior code had no standing in this particular matter, and the fact that he was supposed to believe that it _did_ only made things more confusing. He felt a warm tongue rasp over his ear in the twilit darkness of the den, and leaned into a soft-furred shoulder. Lavastar curled her tail around him tenderly; the tabby's heart was hammering so fast that it hurt, and his stomach was churning with anxiety. At his mentor's touch, he felt his fear subside a little, like the gently ebbing tides of Lake Hylia. He looked up into her eyes, and held her gaze as best he could.

"He questions them," he meowed softly. "And I'm worried that his loyalty to me compromises his loyalty to FieldClan, but that's not what you asked me to tell you. R—my friend…He doesn't like crossing into other Clans' territories, but he has to. He"—Link hesitated, his whole body seeming to seize against the admission—"thinks that Tawnystar is building up his Clan to claim more land when leaf-bare comes. He warned me to be careful about what his leader might be planning."

"Your worries are well-placed," Lavastar told him. "In most circumstances, yes, your friend's actions would be considered disloyal to his Clan. However, if he is to be believed, then Tawnystar is the cat who broke the Clan laws first, and your friend is merely trying to put the pieces a little closer together so that the code is more easily mended." The dark ginger cat shook her head. "If all of what your friend said is true, then we must prepare to defend our land. I feel that even if we refuse him, the leader of FieldClan will still put up a fight."

"My friend told me he was worried that Tawnystar would use his bulked-up warriors to make a move for land," Link admitted, still trembling a little. "But…it's not as if FieldClan can take the mountain away from us, right?"

"True; MountainClan only has a very small piece of land that is under any real threat of repossession." Lavastar's tone was one of confident assurance, but the tabby tom's fears were not so easily relieved.

"But there is more than just us. What of ForestClan and FallsClan? Tawnystar could easily move to take their land!" Link protested. His mentor eyed him first with suspicion, then with gentle patience.

"Unless it truly puts them in risk of starvation during leaf-bare, that is not our Clan's problem," Lavastar pointed out lightly. The golden apprentice opened his mouth to say something, but the burly queen's rust-orange tail flicked in front of his muzzle. "I know; it pains you to think of others suffering when you are capable of helping them. But, Link, that is not the way our world works, and you must learn to accept that." She rubbed her head against his fondly, and the young cat returned the gesture; he was glad for any kind of tactile reassurance at the moment. The big queen's ears swiveled forward. "It sounds as though cats are still making their opinions known. If we are quiet, we can slip back into the group without any cat noticing our absence."

Link nodded and followed his mentor back outside. She paused a bit back from the entrance of her den and licked his ear again as he came up beside her. "And thank you for speaking with me," she murmured. "I'm glad to have the information you gave me." With that, she bounded forward and lunged onto the Highbranch. Wolfosclaw was waiting for her there; he barely seemed to notice the tabby apprentice behind her. Link scrambled down the opposite direction, settling himself back down with the other apprentices.

"What was that all about?" Blazingpaw asked, her head tipped to the side. Link shrugged. "Oh! You were telling her what Ravenpaw said, weren't you?"

"I thought she should know," the tom mewed under his breath.

"Why didn't you just say it while the whole Clan was debating it?"

Link balked. He knew that Blazingpaw, like Lavastar, saw little wrong with the black tomcat's actions at the Gathering. It was information that gave their Clan a competitive edge. The implications for Ravenpaw's loyalty did not matter as much to them; that was a problem for _his_ Clan to work out. "I wasn't sure if any cat would believe me," he lied in a mutter. "Tawnystar hasn't really shown himself to be _that_ ambitious in the past, has he? I mean, building up a Clan so that they're strong when all others are weak."

"Every cat has personality traits that they prefer to keep hidden," Ghostpaw mused. Link nodded, wondering briefly if those words had a different meaning coming from the mouth of such a quiet tomcat. He then glanced around at the other apprentices.

"Has the majority been found yet?" he asked.

"Most cats want to keep the piece of land as our own," Smokepaw hissed. "I'm with them. That place by the river is where I caught my first bird—it's got special memories for me. Plus, it doesn't sound like FieldClan needs it."

A few moments later, the discussions began to taper off. Most cats turned their hazily-glowing eyes to the shadowed form of the leader, who sat patiently above them and watched like a hawk. One or two groups—Link heard the voices of Hillfire and Raggedstripe in particular—continued speaking for a few moments more; then, when their quietly listening friends nudged them, they too fell silent. Lavastar waited until every cat's eyes were on her before she raised her voice to address them. "Wolfosclaw tells me that most of the Clan believes that we should not give that strip of land to FieldClan," she called. Her words rang eerily through the silent, misty camp, as if her voice was bouncing between the suspended drops of water in the air. "Who among us disagrees?"

Magmaheart tipped her head back proudly a few whiskers before rising to her feet. The golden tabby tom glanced around the clearing, and realized that she was the only cat who held that view. He sent a silent prayer of thanks to StarClan that the odd cat out was not him. Lavastar turned her eyes to the ginger queen standing in the twilight, and nodded calmly. "Magmaheart, you seem to be the only cat in favor of giving FieldClan the land," she meowed. It was not an accusation, but a statement of fact. "I will not make a decision until the whole Clan is in agreement. Tell us, then—have you sunk in your claws, or could some cat persuade you otherwise?"

"My claws are in too deep to pull out, I think," Magmaheart replied. "But I'm tired of arguing, Lavastar, and I have no desire to be the one cat who overly complicates what could be a simple decision. The rest of the Clan is united in their opinion. I hold my belief, but I am finished fighting for it. I will not complain if you side with the majority; keep our land for MountainClan, if you feel that is right."

"Are you sure?" The leader of MoutainClan spoke those three words carefully and evenly, as if each were a quiet step past a sleeping Wolfos.

"Yes."

"Then it is decided." Lavastar's gaze swept the gathered ranks of her Clan, seeming to flicker over each and every cat there. She was looking for any dissenters, Link realized; no cat raised their voice in protest to the dark ginger queen's statement. "Tomorrow morning, I will set out with small group of cats to FieldClan's camp so that we may deliver our decision to Tawnystar. That is all."

She waved her tail in dismissal, and—given the chilly air and the falling rain, which was now starting to come down harder—the Clan was quick to disperse to their dens. Wolfosclaw was calling together an evening patrol; Swoopingclaw, Brownfur, Rockpelt, and Ghostpaw padded over to answer his summons. Link shivered a little in the darkness, fluffing out his thickening pelt against the rain. Blazingpaw pressed her thick fur up against him, and the two apprentices padded back to their den together. Though it was not very late in the evening, the land was dark and cold, and the shelter of the den had never seemed more welcome. The tabby apprentices carefully climbed down into the darkness beneath the bush, licked their fur reasonably dry, and settled down in their nests.

Blazingpaw lifted her head after a few moments, her green eyes glinting as they caught a stray bit of light from the gaps in the bush's leaves. "We can't say these next few moons won't be interesting, can we?" she mewed. Link gave a short purr of dry amusement.

"I just hope Tawnystar accepts that 'no' means 'no'," he muttered. Blazingpaw flicked his ear with her tail in a teasing manner.

"You know just as well as I do that he won't," she told him. "Lavastar can tell him the land beside the river belongs to MountainClan until the mountain crumbles to dust—he'll still try to hunt on it. Who knows? Maybe we'll get to fight in our first battle because of this."

Though he hated himself for it, Link couldn't suppress a shudder of excitement. The thought of finally being able to test his skills against real, full-grown warriors—warriors who weren't going to hold back for fear of injuring him—was thrilling. In his mind, he called up images of FieldClan cats he had seen and met: Yellowflower, a pale golden she-cat; Sharpfang, a brown tabby tom who looked a bit like Raggedstripe; Sunface, a tomcat the color of fiery maple leaves; and of course, Ravenpaw and Burntpaw. The golden tabby tom imagined what it would be like to face off against any of them; for a heartbeat, he thought he heard the angry scream of a retreating warrior that his claws had driven off, but it was only in his mind. The excitement sent his heart pumping faster, and that in turn warmed him up. He turned to Blazingpaw, and saw in her eyes the same things he was thinking.

"I almost hope we do," he mewed, then snuggled his muzzle down under his tail. Blazingpaw wrinkled her nose and nodded, her striped head retreating deeper between her shoulders. She closed her eyes, and within a few moments, her breaths had turned to quiet snores. Link, however, remained awake for a bit longer, though he kept his eyes closed. His mind turned the past few days' events over and over—the tense Gathering, the border patrol he'd gone out with, the Clan meeting. He sighed deeply, and let sleep cover him over silently.


	16. Chapter 14

* * *

"Easy, Link!" Lavastar warned her sparring apprentice as she shoved him away. "That's enough for now." Still, the golden tabby tom persisted; he had fallen into a good pattern of swipes and dodges, and he was itching to continue the fight. He reared up on his hindpaws and batted at his mentor's head, hissing playfully.

In a sinuous twist of rust-hued fur, the burly leader of MountainClan drew herself up onto her back legs as well, and she loomed over her young apprentice menacingly. She flattened her scarred ears and bared her snow-bright teeth in an impatient snarl; Link dropped back onto all fours in fear. One massive paw streaked down, easily snaring both of the tomcat's forepaws and pressing them deep into the soft ground. The other shot out, catching him upside the head and sending him reeling. At the last possible second, Lavastar released Link's paws, and the golden tabby thudded onto his side in the wet sand of the training hollow. He lay there, panting, for a few moments, his head spinning. A shadow fell over him, and the young cat looked up into his mentor's dark green eyes.

"When I said 'enough,' I meant it," the ginger queen meowed. A glint of amusement sparked in her gaze, scattering the darkness that her brief anger had gathered. "Get up, Link. You're not hurt."

Still a little winded, Link hauled himself to his paws and shook his pelt out, grimacing as the rain-soaked grit clung to his body. The training hollow may have been sheltered on the sides, but the top of it was totally open and the ceaseless leaf-fall rains were free to douse the sand that lined the bottom. The golden tabby tom was trying to learn to stay on his feet during his training sessions, because wet sand was not easy to rid one's fur of; unfortunately, if he got carried away with his maneuvers, Lavastar tended to smack him down into the clingy sand, thus spoiling all his efforts to stay clean. Link gazed over at his mentor, who was sitting a tail-length or so away from him, her ginger pelt dark with rain.

"Why did we stop?" he asked curiously, tilting his head to the side. "Was I doing something wrong?"

"No," she responded. "Your offensive techniques are becoming quite coordinated, but I feel it's time to work on some defensive moves." She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "I've taken you out training enough times to know that you're weak when it comes to defense."

It was true, Link reflected; his skills at countering opponents' moves were very poor. He crouched low as Lavastar began stalking towards him, her eyes bright in the dim and rainy world. The two cats prowled around each other slowly. "Now, I want to see you try what we came up with last time we were out here," the dark ginger queen rumbled. "Try throwing back my weaker attacks with moves of your own—and remember not to get too carried away with your counters. The objective right now is for you to _defend_ _yourself_." Link nodded, and Lavastar darted towards him. He jerked his haunches around so that he was facing his mentor head-on, and tensed for the impact.

Lavastar's first strike came from above; her massive paw streaked down at the tabby's head like a fiery falling star. Link leapt back so that his rear end touched the stone wall of the hollow and pushed himself onto his hindpaws. He clapped a forepaw over his mentor's as it fell past his nose, pressing her foot into the sand with a triumphant snarl; he half-unsheathed his claws so that the tips of them prodded the tops of her toes. Lavastar responded with a sideswipe; the golden tabby tom knocked it away deftly with the underside of his foreleg, deliberately brushing his paw over the she-cat's nose. The burly cat let out a short purr of approval at the move, then lunged forward in a muscular surge. Her apprentice dove nimbly under her belly, slipped out through the space between her front and back left legs, and whirled on his heels. He bunched his muscles to leap for her back, only to check himself mid-crouch. He was supposed to be defending from her attacks with subtle blows of his own, not launching all-out battle moves.

Lavastar spun around quickly, her ears flattened against the sides of her head. "Nice dodge," she praised tersely, the words hissing out from between her clenched, bared teeth. She reared up onto her hindpaws and thrust her forelegs toward her apprentice, gripping his shoulders in her paws. Link mirrored her movements and braced his own front legs against her chest. The two cats pushed back and forth, grunting and growling, scrabbling for purchase in the heavy sand. "A real enemy warrior wouldn't let themselves be deadlocked with another cat for this long," Lavastar warned. Link nodded, wondering briefly if she would break away, or if she expected him to do it. His answer came the next heartbeat; the hefty ginger cat suddenly shoved him away, almost thrusting him against the stone walls with her powerful legs.

Link recovered his footing quickly, bracing himself for his mentor's next attack. Lavastar bounded towards him, raindrops flying from the ends of her whiskers, sand exploding up around her feet. Then, without breaking her stride, she lunged and hurled a forepaw at his shoulder. The golden tabby tom opted to duck under the blow; he could tell that it was coming far too strongly for him to turn it aside. Lavastar seemed to sense his intentions. She planted her striking foot in the wet sand and flashed out with her other paw. Link wanted to slide under _that_ attack as well, but his mentor was aiming too low for that. He gathered his long legs under his body and sprang up into the air, leaping over her foreleg nimbly. He clamped his fangs around a premature yowl of triumph as he felt a massive ginger paw collide with the spot between his neck and shoulderblades, knocking him onto his belly in the sand. Lavastar pinned him there deftly.

"I admire the creativity with which you evade my attacks, my young apprentice," she meowed. "But sometimes you get a bit careless. For instance: As dramatic as that jump at the end was, it left you very vulnerable to attack—not only from me, but also from any other cat, had there been one." She stepped back and let the young cat push himself back onto his own paws. "You need to remember that whenever you enter a battle for MountainClan, it will not necessarily be just you and your opponent fighting; you may very well find the other Clan ganging up on you, forcing you to fight two or perhaps more warriors at a time."

"I might also be fighting back-to-back with other cats, or side-by-side," Link muttered. "So I should be thinking about how that would affect my fighting, shouldn't I?" Lavastar nodded, her eyes glinting with pleasure at her apprentice's thoughtfulness.

"One day we will ask another warrior to bring their apprentice to train with us," she told him. "You've had a lot of solo fighting experience, Link, and I think it may be time for you to learn how to fight cooperatively." She glanced at the sky; it was nearly impossible to see the position of the sun through the thick, gray clouds. "It's probably past sunhigh by now. Head off and hunt for now, but be careful on the slopes."

"I will," Link replied seriously. He'd seen enough mud-slicked apprentices limping into Sagewhisker's den over the past few days, and he was not keen on being one. Lavastar gave him an affectionate lick behind the ear, then flicked her tail in dismissal. The golden tabby tom dipped his head respectfully to his mentor, and bounded somewhat stiffly out of the training hollow.

Four days had passed since the Gathering and the Clan's discussion. Link had not been selected to accompany Lavastar to FieldClan's land, but—judging from what Ghostpaw, who _had_ gone, had told him—he wasn't bitter about it. According to the gray tom, Tawnystar had looked ready for an all-out war when he heard that MountainClan was not going to give him their land; several of his heftiest warriors were all-too-eager to escort the small delegation of mountain cats to the border. No blood had been spilled, fortunately, but it seemed likely that it would be before long. As he trotted along the muddy ridge, Link found himself wondering just where and when the inevitable battle would take place. The whole Clan seemed to share his thoughts; apprentices were being drilled relentlessly on battle tactics, and warriors were seen sparring outside their den more frequently than usual.

The rain was chilly today, and it fell in a seemingly endless rhythm, bathing the mountain and staining the rocks dark. Link slogged his way through the muddy trail, pausing every step to tug a paw free from the thick, russet-colored mire. _You'd lose your boots walking through this stuff,_ he thought grimly. _Great StarClan, I'm surprised my paws are still on the ends of my legs!_ He snorted, shaking his head to scatter the rain that had gathered in his ears and on his brow whiskers. Then, lifting his nose to the quiet air, he inhaled deeply, hoping to catch some kind of prey-scent. Luck was not on his side, it seemed; all he could smell was the cold, wet scent of the leaf-fall rains. Smothering a bitter grumble, the tabby tom pressed onward, hoping that he would eventually find the trail of _something._

As he turned his back on the wide, deep gorge known to Twolegs as Death Mountain Trail, a strange prickling sensation tickled the base of his neck. The prickle swiftly grew into a ring of fiery knives stabbing into his neck, their cruel edges burning deep into his brain. Link stopped dead, not only because of his bogged-down feet—his muscles had simply frozen in mid-paw-tug. A sickening jerk twisted his stomach into knots; reflex raised his golden hackles and fluffed out his tabby-striped tail. His claws unsheathed, sinking deep into the wet earth of the trail. The unknown watcher's eyes began to penetrate deeper into his mind, searing his thoughts and senses painfully. Link's stomach burned as if he had swallowed a live coal, and his heart thundered in his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and, gritting his fangs together around a yowl of pain, prayed for the sensations to pass. His whole body trembled fiercely, not only in pain, but also fear.

_I should know you. _

Link's blue eyes jolted open as the watcher's voice rang through his mind. That voice…just the sound of it seemed to strike a crushing blow to his courage. He'd heard that voice before somewhere, but he couldn't place it for the life of him. It was so painfully familiar. His thoughts were cut off as the blazing gaze doubled in intensity; if his joints hadn't locked so firmly, the golden tabby cat would have collapsed in the mud to writhe in the sheer agony. He felt as though the pent-up fire of the entire volcano and the blazing heat of the greenleaf sun had joined to fill his head—scalding, burning, searing, singeing, destroying. If it kept on any longer, he was sure his whole mind and spirit would be charred to ashes. The voice spoke again.

_But I can't recall. Who are you?_

"Going to stand around all day, are we? Come on, there's cats to be fed back at camp!"

The angry burn left Link's body almost as quickly as it had come upon him, releasing him in a swift jerk and leaving him feeling weak and shaky. He turned to see Lavastar starting after him, her brow furrowing with concern. She was walking across the ground with her legs straddling the path—she was spreading out her weight as much as possible to keep from sinking too deeply into the mud. The dark ginger she-cat rubbed her muzzle against her apprentice's when she reached his side. Her eyes were dark with worry. "Is everything all right, Link?" she asked. "You stopped so suddenly and started bristling as though you'd seen a Wolfos."

"I'll be fine," Link mewed softly, though he wasn't sure if that was the truth or not. An icy chill rippled through his body from nose to tailtip, as if his body had just remembered it was standing in the cold, pouring rain. "Really."

Lavastar eyed the young tom strangely for a moment longer, as if seeking the reason for his fear-stiff fur in the stripes of his pelt; Link strove to lower his hackles. She seemed to know that her apprentice was not telling her the whole truth, and was debating with herself whether or not to ask him. After a heartbeat more of scrutiny, she meowed, "Why don't we hunt together today? It's been a while since I've seen your technique."

_In other words, you want to be there in case I freeze up again,_ Link thought, although he was not bitter about it. He hadn't missed how quickly the burning gaze had fled once he'd heard his mentor's voice; it was almost as if her words had yanked him out of his watcher's grasp. Frankly, he felt much safer with her around. If his unknown watcher decided to turn their eyes to him again, he could count on someone saving him. Looking into Lavastar's green eyes, he nodded in agreement, and even attempted a small caper of enthusiasm to be hunting with the big she-cat. Unfortunately, his paws were still stuck in the mud of the mountain trail; he wound up lurching in place and nearly falling onto his nose. He heard Lavastar's _mrrow_ of amusement and felt her teeth prick gently into his scruff. She hauled him out of the mire and set him down on the trail beside her.

"Before we go anywhere, though," she told him, "you've got to learn how to walk on the mountain in leaf-fall. Spread your legs out wider when you walk, like this"—she demonstrated, nodding with approval as Link copied her—"and you won't sink as far. Try not to put more weight on one paw than the other three. Also, keep an eye out for any stones alongside the path. You can jump between those instead of struggling in the mud."

The two cats set off together, their ears pricked, their noses sweeping through the rain in search of scent trails. The world was quiet, drowsy, and gray; it seemed to Link that the entire mountain had been robbed of all its color by the endless rain. The occasional smears of yellow from the Fairygroves looked washed-out. Even the carmine soil seemed to have been dulled by the dreary weather, for it was now a vaguely nondescript shade of red-brown, cut through with countless streams and channels, and dotted with puddles of mud. The golden tabby tom never thought he could find a place where the season of autumn could be…drab. Only when he craned his neck to peek at the topmost branches of the forest did he see the colors he knew and loved. He looked back to Lavastar, and was surprised to see the she-cat was staring back at him.

"You seem sad," she observed. "Are the rains starting to bring your spirits down already?" Link looked at her curiously. "It happens in MountainClan during the first moon of leaf-fall. Cats become depressed and listless; they miss the heat of greenleaf and the blue of the sky. But it doesn't last long. Once the rains clear and the mountain dries off, things get better." She purred softly. "It's funny, really, my having to explain all of this to you. You look so much like one of us, Link, that sometimes I forget you were once a rogue."

"Sometimes I forget too," the tabby tom confessed softly, glancing to the side. He felt Lavastar's cold, wet nose touch the inside of his ear lightly.

"Perhaps that is best," he heard her murmur. "You were chosen for MountainClan; why shouldn't you feel like a part of it?" She shook her head, then paused with one foot still in the air. "Tell me what you scent."

Obediently, Link opened his mouth, drawing the cool air over his scent glands. He shut his jaws with a quiet snap, then parted them to swipe his tongue over his whiskers in disgust. He glanced up at Lavastar, who hadn't moved a muscle, and frowned. "It almost smells like our Clan," he replied. "But it's definitely not one of our markers—we don't mark this part of the mountain. There's something else about it, too…it's not a cat whose scent I recognize, and it smells a little like crowfood and fear."

"That's the smell of a cat gone rogue," Lavastar told him. "You correctly identified its MountainClan origin; the cat in question was once one of our warriors." The dark ginger cat shook her head and sighed softly. She flicked her head for Link to follow as she led the way off of the difficult trail, settling down atop a wide, flat rock. Link joined her on her perch, and began licking the gritty mud from his feet and legs in strips. "Many moons before you came to us, there was a she-cat in our number by the name of Blackcloud. I doubt you would have heard her tale from the elders; it's not something that we care to recall."

"What happened to her?" Link asked, swallowing a mouthful of mud. He'd stopped caring about eating dirt long ago; it passed through his body like anything else he consumed and it never seemed to do him any harm. "Or rather, what did she do?"

"What did she do." Lavastar repeated the question blankly, and Link thought he heard an edge of sorrow in her voice. "She was a service to her Clan. She was one of our best hunters, and a very agreeable cat—humble, obedient, caring, and polite. She fought with the strength of a volcano and ran with all the speed of StarClan. She mentored Craterfire and passed everything she knew on to him." The golden tom nodded; Craterfire was a warrior for whom he had a truly profound respect and liking. But something didn't quite settle with him.

"If Blackcloud was the wonderful cat you say she was," he began, not really looking at his mentor, "then why was she cast from the Clan?" He lifted a paw to his muzzle and gave it a lick.

"Because she killed another warrior in cold blood."

The tabby apprentice jolted, spitting out the grit he had cleaned from his pelt in a rust-red spray. His gaze snapped back to Lavastar, eyes wide with horror. The ginger queen nodded sadly, and curled her tail around his haunches sympathetically. "Yes, Link…as valuable a cat as she was, Blackcloud was a murderer. I'm sure that by now you've realized that we do not necessarily look down on an apprentice who feels great affection for their mentor or vice versa." Thinking of Fairypaw and Dodongofang, Link nodded. "Sometimes, that affection is nothing more than an apprentice crush, a little fling that will eventually wear out; others, it grows into a powerful love that one day leads to new warriors for MountainClan. But the outcome is decided by the cats involved, and no others should interfere."

Lavastar gazed out at the falling rain, her green eyes somewhat glassy with memory. "Craterfire's story is an interesting one, for he did not develop feelings for his own mentor, but rather for that of his friend, Magmaheart—then Magmapaw," she explained. "Magmapaw was mentored by a warrior called Ashfire, a beautiful gray queen with eyes the golden-orange color of the moon in leaf-fall. Craterpaw fell in love—quite deeply, I might add—with Ashfire, and she began to feel the same towards him. They tried to be polite and discreet about it, not being overly public with their affections, but by the time the seasons had changed twice, it was clear they were very much in love with each other."

Link had a feeling he knew where this story was going. He gulped, his throat suddenly feeling very dry. "How did Blackcloud feel about that?" he asked.

"She didn't like it one bit," the rust-orange cat responded, confirming her apprentice's suspicions. "As time went on, she began going out of her way to keep them apart. She would drag Craterpaw off for training drills the moment she saw Ashfire's face, and keep him nearby whenever she could. Other times, she would bring him choice pieces of fresh-kill and take him to special places on the mountain to eat it. She would call him over to her side to share tongues, even if he was already occupied with something else. None of us understood it at first, but she was fighting for her apprentice's affections. It seemed that she had begun to feel a pull towards Craterpaw early on, and she was determined that he choose her over Ashfire. The seasons pressed onward, and as Craterpaw and Magmapaw worked towards their warrior naming ceremony, Blackcloud became worried. She knew that once he was made a warrior, Craterpaw would be allowed to choose a mate, and she knew he would want Ashfire if he had a choice."

"So she took away his choice…didn't she?"

"Yes." Lavastar's voice dropped to a low growl. "One evening, when Wolfosclaw asked for a small group of cats to remark the FieldClan border, Blackcloud asked to go with Ashfire. We assumed that she wanted to talk privately about the Craterpaw situation, and we left it at that. The two she-cats left the camp alone. Later that evening, we heard some cat coming up towards camp, wailing and yowling in grief. Sure enough, it was Blackcloud, and she was dragging Ashfire up the mountain with her. Both of them looked as though they had been thoroughly battered, and Ashfire was barely breathing. The story we heard was that they had been jumped by a FieldClan patrol by the bridge, and that neither of the she-cats could make a break for reinforcements. They both smelled of FieldClan, and we had been having some trouble with them at the time, so much of the Clan was willing to believe Blackcloud's tale."

"But how did you…?"

"Ashfire died shortly after Blackcloud finished her story, and as Sagewhisker was preparing the gray cat's body for vigil, she noticed that there were clumps of black fur between her claws. Without telling any cat of her discovery, she asked Rockpelt and Moonflower to slip out of camp and check the border for fresh FieldClan scent. They found the site of the battle easily enough, but reported back to her that the only FieldClan scent to be found was stale—at least a day old. Moreover, the tufts of fur that littered the battleground were only of two colors: black and gray. It didn't take much thought for Sagewhisker to realize what had happened, and before the night was through, she had told me everything. I waited until after Ashfire's burial to reveal what she had said."

"What did Blackcloud do?"

"Denied it at first. Not only because of the implications, but because Craterpaw had finally turned to her for comfort. She had spent the entire night beside him at the vigil, and he was clearly starting to feel affection for her. But when Rockpelt and Moonflower testified what they had seen at the FieldClan border, she broke down and confessed. She gave every detail, down to the fact that she rolled on a FieldClan marker before rubbing her pelt on Ashfire's to give their fur the smell of the other Clan. The whole Clan rose up against her in a furious wave, but it was really the two apprentices, Craterpaw and Magmapaw, who drove her out of the camp. They were given their warrior names a few days later, after the Clan had settled down; it was then that Craterpaw asked to be named after Ashfire."

Link shivered, drawing his shoulders up around his head as if to protect his neck from backstabbing rogues. He felt Lavastar press her flank against his, and he returned the touch wholeheartedly. "Blackcloud made her den in the forest behind the mountain, although we sometimes catch her scent on our land. You have nothing to fear from her, Link. She is nothing but a heartbroken rogue."

"I never would have guessed…" Link whispered, still a little shocked by the story. "I mean, Craterfire doesn't seem like…well, you know…like the kind of cat who's had his loved one murdered."

"He used to be that way." Lavastar shook her head, a warm glimmer starting to light up her eyes. "He was a fairly morose cat after Ashfire's death, very quiet and withdrawn. It was only after I gave him Blazingpaw to mentor that he livened up again. He needed some cat to show him how to hold his head and tail high again, and I knew that Liontail's feisty daughter Blazingkit would be the one to do it. After all, she's not the type you can be sad around, is she?" She nudged the golden tabby tom; Link shook his head. "Precisely. Once he had that little furball tripping him up every two steps, Craterfire went back to the way he had been before Ashfire's death: friendly, warm, caring, and good-natured. And I think he's grateful to his apprentice for teaching him how to live again; he certainly treats her like he's in her debt."

Link nodded. He had noticed that Craterfire tended to be a little more indulgent than other mentors. Blazingpaw could get away with more shenanigans than any other apprentice in the den—Link was fairly sure he'd seen Craterfire had turned a blind ear when she threatened to put a thorn in grumpy old Tornear's bedding; even though Blazingpaw hadn't gone through with it, she hadn't been reprimanded for the suggestion. She was on a much looser leash than most, and her mentor was less inclined to pull her back to his side when she wandered. Needless to say, Blazingpaw was not wholly undisciplined—Craterfire pulled her aside for a scolding whenever she truly crossed the line—but she seemed to have more leeway than the others. Now that he thought about it, Link realized that the gentle affection that always filled Craterfire's eyes when his apprentice goofed around was tempered with a kind of earnest gratitude; he wondered if the pretty, feisty she-cat realized it.

"But Clan history does not catch prey," Lavastar meowed, pushing herself back to a standing position and stretching each of her four legs in turn. She winked at her apprentice, her eyes glinting in the gray light. "Unless the sound of our voices telling tales somehow lures it to our jaws. Come on, Link—there's a hyrax trail nearby. Can you scent it?" The golden tabby cat nodded, bouncing to his feet beside his mentor. The two cats set off in the direction of their prey, prowling side by side across the rainy mountain.

* * *

It was late in the afternoon by the time Link and Lavastar made their way back to camp. The golden tabby tom had his jaws latched firmly around a spindly-legged mountain rabbit and a small pika, while his ginger mentor carried the hyrax they had scented earlier. Prey had not been easy to find, since the rain had washed away many of the scent trails, but the catches they toted were better than nothing. Link had plans for his rabbit; he wanted to give it to Dragonheart in exchange for another story about MountainClan's ancestors—or perhaps a retelling of Redstar's fight against the Wolfos pack. Link's sapphire-blue eyes narrowed happily as he thought of the old tom's raspy voice describing the massive, fire-red leader of ancient MountainClan sinking his claws into the mottled muzzle of the Wolfos leader. Dragonheart would even give different voices to the characters in his stories; Redstar's meow was regal and proud, while his mate Smokeplume spoke with a gentle purr in her voice, and his deputy Whitewhisker seemed to growl every word in a gravelly grunt.

_Ghostpaw went out sparring with Rockpelt today,_ Link thought as he walked. _And Blazingpaw went on hunting patrol. I bet they'll be keen on a story, too._ He stopped in his tracks as Lavastar flicked her tail in front of his nose, and watched carefully as she picked her way down a steep, muddy slope. When his turn came, he moved the same ways she had, and was pleased when he reached the bottom of the incline without slipping or stumbling. His mentor even drew her tail down his flank in silent congratulations before setting off with the hyrax. The tabby apprentice trotted after her happily as she led the way past the training hollow.

Link never really knew exactly what it was that caused him to look down at that precise moment. It certainly wasn't a scent on the wind, for the high rocks of the mountain kept the restless leaf-fall breezes to a minimum. It felt more like a gut instinct, a kind of unconscious response—like blinking at a loud noise; but there wasn't a noise now, and the stimulus remained unknown. All the tomcat knew was that he suddenly felt the need to look down from the high ridge outside the training hollow. He padded up to the cliff and peered out across the territory, and nearly dropped the prey in his mouth. He turned back to his mentor, fur bristling, and spat out his rabbit and pika. "L-Lavastar!" he burst out fearfully. The burly queen turned over her shoulder and, noting his rising hackles, dropped the hyrax and bounded back to him.

"What is it, Link?" she asked, studying him carefully. Clearly she thought he had frozen again, as he had done twice when they were out hunting higher up on the mountain. But Link shook his head. It was not the eyes of his unknown watcher that caused him to panic. He jerked his head around, pointing with his nose to the rain-drenched MountainClan camp below. Lavastar padded to the very edge of the rise, narrowing her eyes against the rain. She squinted, craning her neck until Link feared she would overbalance and topple down into the gorge below. Then, she drew back, the fur around her neck bristling out sharply. Her bared fangs flashed in the gathering dusk. "No," she hissed. "No. No." She whirled around. "Leave your prey—we'll come back for it later," she commanded, darting in the direction of the camp. Link did as he was told and raced after his mentor, his tail starting to bush out. He begged StarClan that they would make it to the camp in time. Especially after what he had seen through the rain.

A large group of cats had been making their way up the camp trail, and none of their pelts belonged to MountainClan.


End file.
